The Lady of Ren

Revelations

Sabyr rises from her seat as though she's just been electrocuted, her hand wrenching away from the rock with a jolt. Before you, she's in predatory stance, her arm enveloping in her cape – she's reaching for a weapon. Or, considering it, anyway.

It's all happened so quickly but while explaining your mother's history it had dawned on you. All the pieces were there – how had you not seen it before?

You feel guilty. You'd been so focused on yourself – on your personal life – that you'd been neglecting your job. But how had the Force not warned you of her?

She reminds you of your mother for a reason. It hadn't been a coincidence that Tyth mysteriously disappeared the day of the skirmish on base. And while you knew the resistance had everything to do with it, it wasn't clear what their exact intentions were. After all, they hadn't stolen any information – not even attempted to. So what was it that they were after?

No.

It couldn't possibly be you. Baleine is First Order territory – they're dedicated to you. There was no way they'd turn to the resistance – not after your father's legacy.

But your story from before hangs in the air and suddenly...it doesn't feel right.

Something feels as though it's been lodged in your throat – like the revelation shoved itself within your windpipe in attempt to maim you.

"They were for her..." you gasp. "They were for her all along."

Sabyr raises her chin in defiance. "How could you be so stupid?" she sneers. "Has Kylo Ren completely incapacitated you of all logic?"

This ignites a fire in your guts, burning your insides in a cocktail of aggression and woe; pure, uncut, dread stops your heart altogether. You're left with heavy lungs and a blurry skyline of Yanni's meadow. Thoughts crumble around you like collapsing buildings – each one more ridiculous than the next but all deserving of consideration. Nothing surprised you anymore. There was only one explanation of her visit, however, and soon it'd show its sour face.

She's here to finish the job.

You wouldn't let her. Your life was not your own. There were three souls, honest and precious beings, waiting for you back home – lifeforms you shared with half of you. You picture their faces; their little hands, their sunbeam eyes – and you see everything in them. Kylo. Your father. Baleine. The sibling they never met and the emptiness in your belly you felt because of it. The past. The present. What was to come. The Force – how powerful it dwells from them, how it ignites all of the atmosphere until there was nothing but armistice.

Survival is absolute.

The barrel of your DH-17 leers directly at the center of her forehead but she seems unphased by your trigger finger brushing against its tframe. She's already prepared her Glie-44 which makes just as swiftly an appearance as your pistol.

The two of you, held at gunpoint, in a field of wildflowers.

How poetic.

But then there's a hum in your ears. It currents to the parietal lobe of your brain and congeals your blood. Your center stills. The field of wildflowers fades from perception, its yellow saturation contrasting with the light of the suns, until there's nothing but blackness.

Before you appears Qui-Gon.

And then Kylo.

Their expressions mirror one another, four glowing eyes maintaining yours. There is nothing but them; not Sabyr, not the field, not the suns, not the sky. Just them.

It should feel empty and remote, but it doesn't – not in the slightest. You feel warmth – hope. Your lungs feel full again. Your head clears. All survival instincts have been refreshed as though their presence was a glass of water and your body had been hydrated. They were the antidote.

The two of them whisper to you:

"Fire now."