Chapter 10: Through Passion, I Gain Strength

SUMMARY: [ABY 18] In the abandoned Imperial lab on Jakku, thirteen-year-old Padawan Ben Solo longs to find traces of the dark lord he’s seen in holovids, as he helps his uncle track down confiscated Jedi artifacts. What he doesn’t bargain for is a Sith artifact finds him first.

It was a box of crystalline lattices, its matrices perfectly aligned, and it was rapidly spinning in Ben Solo’s hands. The central smoke-colored crystal pulsed with a blood-red light in intervals and patterns that had meaning to the initiated. The gatekeeper of the vessel was awake and speaking to the Padawan through the Force.

Those who serve the light are limited in what they accomplish. True power can come only to those who embrace the transformation. There can be no compromise. The dark side offers power for power’s sake. You must crave it. Covet it.

“No!” Luke, still several meters away, could feel the connection between the Sith entity and his nephew, even though he couldn’t make sense of the words that hissed from the fist-sized pyramid.

But Ben understood and echoed them back in Basic, mesmerized by the holocron rotating in his hands, more slowly now, like a startled bird settling on its master’s glove.

“Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory….”

The trance trailed off as the holocron was forcibly ripped from Ben’s grasp. The feat took all Luke’s strength, all his concentration.

“Do or do not,” Yoda had always said. “There is no try.” Well, he had. And now he held in his mechanical hand a Sith datacron — a box housing a thousand years or more of dark-side knowledge accessible only to another Force-user, its shape duplicating the angles of power in Sith culture. The Jedi Master felt a wave of nausea seize him and he wanted to drop it, but the strange hieroglyphs carved on its sleek sides drew him in.

Ben Solo was on the floor, eyes rolled back in his head. Amanda Snoke was cradling the boy, murmuring to him soothingly — a mother’s soft words of reassurance. But what the Padawan’s unconscious mind heard through the Force was a stroking of a different kind.

“Yes, yes,” a silky voice said, “you heard it — the gatekeeper, the creator of the holocron. Good. He found you worthy to receive its secrets, to know its spirit. Your powers are growing faster than I dared believe, my worthy pupil.”

She stroked his cheek with her thumb, feeling the life-pulse under it and the flutter within the young mind as Han Solo’s son struggled up through the levels of unconsciousness and opened unfocused eyes.

Luke didn’t see the satisfied smirk on Dr. Snoke’s face. He was too busy tearing his gaze from the glyphs that ensnared all his Force-attention. Gritting his teeth, he made one final effort and sat down hard as if he were shoved backward by an invisible hand. The onyx pyramid tumbled free and came to rest against the far wall of the corridor, its inner light slowly fading.

Amanda Snoke smiled down at the boy in her arms — dark, Force-sensitive, and lovely — as Ben’s eyes searched her face. “You’re safe now.” She cast a cursory glance at Luke and managed to muster some concern. “Are you all right, Master Jedi?”

Luke picked himself up, dusted himself off, and made his way to her, kneeling by his nephew’s side. The boy’s eyes closed again, but he was was breathing peacefully now. “We need to get him out of here tonight and back on Hosnian Prime.” Luke was kicking himself. “I should never have brought him to this place.”

“What was that?” She hid her knowing face well as she smoothed Ben’s hair.

Luke reached out too with his flesh-and-blood hand to feel his Padawan’s forehead. After a moment, he said, “Something Master Yoda never prepared me for.” He let go of a long breath, eyeing the evil thing where it lay down the corridor.  “A Sith holocron — something I’d only ever heard of in legends.” His gaze shifted to his nephew. “I don’t know what it did to him. Each one is different and depends on the gatekeeper inside it. We need to get him checked out.” His voice grew quiet. “And I need to talk to Leia.”

“Who did that device — the holocron — belong to?” Dr. Snoke asked, seeking to understand, although she already did.

The question caught Luke off guard — almost as if she could sense his thoughts. It was precisely what was in the forefront of his mind.

When he didn’t say anything, she guessed, “Darth Vader? I mean, it’s possible he was here, right?”

Luke was shaking his head and the words were coming out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. “No, I would have sensed my father’s presence.” He quickly got to his feet and busied himself with their packs, hiding his doubts and fears.

She stared after the Jedi. “Darth Vader was your father?”

Ben stirred but did not come to. The voice inside his head was so soothing. All he wanted to do was curl up next to it and sleep.

As he strapped on his pack, Luke’s focus was entirely on his nephew. “Anakin Skywalker was,” he corrected her, taking Ben from her arms and lifting him into his. Before he made his way back down the corridor, he stopped and shot her a pleading look. “Please don’t tell Ben. It’s something Leia should explain…when he’s ready to hear it.”

“Of course.” Amanda Snoke gave the Jedi a smile and a nod and watched his retreating back before she strapped on her own pack.

And picked up the holocron.

 

@MyKyloRen   17 April 2018

 

Chapter 8: Vader’s Fist

SUMMARY: [ABY 18] Master Luke Skywalker, along with Padawan Ben Solo and Dr. Amanda Snoke, pay a visit to the canyons of Carbon Ridge on Jakku, guarded by crazed old men. Rumor has it these mad humans are aging stormtroopers clinging to life in an abandoned Imperial base, and Luke can’t pass up the opportunity to come to their aid — and, he hopes, to locate confiscated Jedi artifacts.

Luke ducked. Their aim was good, but it wasn’t anything a normal man couldn’t sidestep. If the old troopers remembered their training and fired their pathetic stone missiles, they’d overwhelm him, and he’d have to resort to using the Force. Plus, there was Ben and Amanda to worry about. He didn’t have to glance over his shoulder to know they were crouching behind the craggy outcropping, but he did anyway…and tried again.

“I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.”

Another fist-sized rock whizzed past his ear.

“You’re here to rescue them?” Ben poked his head out to gape at his uncle. “I thought we were here to make them a deal?”

The Jedi Master smirked, remembering. “I got your mother to follow me with that line once.”

The humor, however, was lost on his nephew, and the crazy old men the Jakku natives called the Dead-Enders were not Alderannian princesses. Another barrage of stones rained down on him from the entrance to the cave in the cliff face above. There were five that he could see — all clasping blaster rifles at the ready and calling frantically to one another. As expected, they leveled their rifles as one at the Jedi Master–

“Get down!” Ben shrieked at Luke.

Luke waived him off, unperturbed.

–and fired.

Nothing happened. No zinging blast of fiery bolts.

“Their power cells are long dead,” Luke explained over his shoulder.

Almost at once, the old troopers broke wedge formation and took up new positions in the rocks above. The shouting continued.

“What are they saying?” Ben said, venturing out and coming to stand with Luke.

In the canyon below, the cries of the men — long strings of numbers and barked orders — echoed off the cliffs.

“Come about, FN-five-eight-seven-five! Tracking four-one-three-two-nine at two. Incoming five-three-one-eight-five point two-six-seven. Repeat five-three-one-eight-five point two-six-seven! Do you copy? Copy that, FN-nine-nine-six-two. It’s a one-six-niner coming in fast!”

A flurry of rocks, as fast as the old men could throw and as heavy as they could lift, pelted the Rebel forces below.

Luke raised his hands and effortlessly directed the stones aside.

“They’re reliving the Battle of Jakku,” Amanda Snoke suggested, stepping out. “They probably do that any time someone threatens them.”

Luke turned to look at her. “So, how do we not threaten them?”

They took refuge again behind the heap of boulders and put their heads together. The two adults were so intent on comparing what they knew of stormtrooper psychology, post traumatic stress disorder, and an array of precautions from survival manuals that they failed to notice Ben Solo emerge from the shelter to take a position in the center of the dry riverbed. Instantly, he was bombarded by stones, but not one touched him. Instead, they stopped midair, centimeters from his body, and hung there, suspended by an invisible force.

Ben called out, eyes closed, hand raised palm out, “I am a stormtrooper. My skin is my armor. My face is my helmet. My name is my number. I am fulfilled, for I am an agent of….”

“An agent of the Emperor,” the troopers joined in, standing at attention now, reciting the oath burned into their memories, their flesh, their souls. “I am Vader’s fist,” the troopers of the 501st finished as one.

“Ben!” Luke cried as the stone projectiles surrounding his nephew suddenly shifted, threatening to pummel the boy’s lithe body into the sands.

Ben Solo’s focus had strayed. Vader, he told himself, gritting his teeth. I must be Vader! The stones danced. All at once, his mind was on point. “Then prepare for the Emperor’s inspection!” he commanded the troopers.

Above, all five troupers saluted. “Yes, sir!”

And the rocks surrounding the padawan learner dropped harmlessly to the ground. Ben opened his eyes. “Come on!” he called over his shoulder, waving Luke and Amanda to follow. “I know the way in.”

Amanda Snoke was on Luke’s heels. “You taught him well!” she said with a laugh.

Luke returned the grin, although he knew without a doubt that he couldn’t take credit for teaching his young nephew any Jedi mind tricks or stormtrooper oaths. Skywalker had planned to handle the situation without using the Force, for he had the uneasy feeling that any time he did, something was watching. Something on Jakku was waiting to pounce.

In a short while, they’d climbed the steep path out of the canyon and stood face to face with the remnants of the 501st Legion. They could see at least ten troopers now, no longer hostile and all awaiting inspection at the entrance to the cave.

“You have to be the Emperor,” Ben muttered to Luke under his breath.

The Jedi Master raised an eyebrow. “Is that how this works?” He was amused but wary. But whatever Ben was doing, it was working, so he allowed himself to be pulled into the scenario.

“What am I?” Amanda asked with a smirk.

“An imperial guard,” Ben answered, and without hesitation, he stepped forward and advance purposefully down the ranks. As he walked, he cupped his hands to his mouth, inhaling and exhaling in a slow, hollow hiss.

Vader’s hiss.

If the hair wasn’t standing up on the back of Luke’s neck before, it was now.

 

@MyKyloRen   25 March 2018

 

More Than a Feeling

WHO IS IN CONTROL?

Petulant. Volatile. Childish. Moody. Emo. Conflicted. These adjectives are frequently used to describe Kylo Ren. Adam Driver called the character he plays “adolescent.” Under Snoke’s ever-present shadow, Ben Solo’s emotional development stopped in adolescence. Director Rian Johnson explains to Empire, “Writing Kylo Ren is just so much fun. Star Wars boils down to the transition from adolescence to adulthood.” We followed Luke’s transition in the original series. In the prequels, Anakin Skywalker struggled to make the transition and only did so moments before his death in Episode IV. In Episode VIII, it’s Kylo, Rey, and Finn’s turn.

“We can all relate to Kylo,” Johnson continues, “to that anger of being in the turmoil of adolescence and figuring out who he’s going to be as a man; dealing with anger and wanting to separate from his family. He’s not Vader — at least, he’s not Vader yet — and that’s something I really wanted to get into.”

In these series of posts, I’ve been taking a look at Kylo’s conflicts — everything he’ll need to overcome if he’s to survive. And if there’s one thing everyone can agree on, Kylo is Kylo’s own worst enemy. Even Snoke, in one of his action-figure lines, tells his pupil, “Your emotions have made you weak.”

It’s Too Late by Missstreelight

Emotions will be the fuel for Kylo’s character arc. He’s going to have to master them. And that task is overwhelming for anyone who is highly sensitive. People with a high level of sensitivity have delicate nervous systems, register more nuances in color, sound, taste, smell, and touch. They can easily become over-stimulated and feel the need to frequently withdraw, but they are also capable to deep happiness in serene surroundings where they can control the level of sensory input.

I imagined in this story teenage Ben Solo becoming overwhelmed with the world. Although his parents never told him Vader was his grandfather, legends of the Sith Lord — with his iconic helmet — became a source of strength for him. If the sensitive teen wanted to shut out the world, one thing he might do is start wearing a helmet to dull his senses. As a youngster who was bullied for being sensitive, it’s not difficult to see Ben spending hours secretly pretending he’s Vader. But…he doesn’t have to pretend he can Force-choke those who annoy him.

Ok. So, why do I think Kylo Ren is highly sensitive and not your typical dark side baddie? Let’s look at the evidence. First of all, actor Adam Driver is highly sensitive. He’s naturally aloof and doesn’t like to be hugged. In Vanity Fair, Mark Hamill confirms that Driver is “moody and intense.” He’s not comfortable giving interviews and having to speak off the cuff. He’s a true introvert, and like all actors, he brings his own personal traits to the characters he portrays. He’s made a career out of turning “naked vulnerability into unconventional stardom…by challenging the usual ideas of both heroes and villains,” says The Verge. Driver divulged in the same Vanity Fair article, “There’s big personal things that I find about every character…that you have to make as personal as possible.” About becoming Kylo Ren, he said, “The things about that character that I find painful, I kind of prefer to keep to myself.” I suspect some of those things have to do with Adam’s relationship with his biological father (who is divorced from his mother) or stepfather.

And his father is something Kylo’s going to be focused on in The Last Jedi. Han Solo may not be appearing as a Force Ghost (he’s not a Force-user and lacks the training), but he’ll be haunting his son nonetheless. Will Kylo commit matricide, offering a viable explanation for Carrie Fisher’s absence in Episode IX? Assuming these shots go together, my hunch is no. Remember, Rian Johnson said Kylo isn’t Vader (yet). I don’t think he has the fortitude to kill his mother. I’m also encouraged by the helmet-smashing scene and interpreting it as a “f*ck this!” moment. If it is, this might be the moment were Ben Solo awakens and stakes his first steps to sever his ties with Snoke (if that’s possible). Of course, the scene could be an “I’ll show you!” moment, where Kylo decides he doesn’t need to hide behind the mask anymore: “I don’t need this f*ckin’ thing to be a badass!” Either way, expect tear-filled eyes, hard swallows, and lip-biting onscreen from Adam Driver throughout The Last Jedi.

Where the character ends up at the end of Episode VIII depends on who is in control — Kylo Ren or Ben Solo.

 

@MyKyloRen   24 November 2017

That Lightsaber, It Belongs to Me

With the release of The Last Jedi fast approaching, I thought I’d recap what we know about Kylo Ren so far — from The Force Awakens and leaks from The Last Jedi, interviews with cast and crew, fan theories, and fan art. As theories are confirmed or dropped, I’ll be revising my own thinking, along with this series of posts, which reveal some of the inspiration and theories behind the fan fiction on this site. Kylo has a lot of enemies he’s facing and he’ll need to defeat every one if he’s to survive, so let’s get started.

JEDI KILLER

Jedi Killer concepts by Christian Alzmann

The mysterious First Order warrior is introduced in The Force Awakens as a commander of a strike force, striding down the ramp of his bat-like command shuttle. He’s intent on seizing the map that will show the whereabouts of Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. We don’t know what the dark warrior’s motives are, but we assume it’s to kill Skywalker. We assume he’s hunting down any surviving Jedi, and Luke poses a special threat to the First Order. In the preliminary concept art, Kylo Ren was originally dubbed the Jedi Killer and looked more machine than human — a black plastoid grim reaper. But as time when on and the character was given a name, he was more refined and clearly human. From what’s been leaked about The Last Jedi, I believe Kylo’s hunting Luke not to kill him but to stop him — from doing what, I have a couple of theories — but I think Ren’s main objective is to acquire ancient artifacts and through them power, not to control the galaxy but the universe. Could it be that Luke’s intent on destroying these artifacts? More about that later.

A NEW DARK-SIDE USER

Kylo Ren’s heavy black garments cover him from head to toe, concealing every inch of him, concealing his identity, along with the helmet that distorts his voice. For a closer look at Ren’s garments, click here for that story. He’s a faceless menace whose humanity has been smothered. He’s a monster, and his monk-like robes suggest he belongs to an order outside of the military. That order, we learn, is the Knights of Ren. For my take on who the Knights are, click here. Many people are tempted to call him a Sith due to his powerful Force abilities and allegiance to the dark side, but according to Pablo Hidalgo in The Force Awakens Visual Dictionary, “Kylo Ren is no Jedi, nor is he a Sith. He is the archetype of a new generation of dark side users that have emerged to fill the void left by the Siths’ demise.” (p. 24)

LOR SAN TEKKA

But, despite his dark disguise, Lor San Tekka knows who Kylo Ren is, even though the enforcer’s true name is forbidden to be spoken within the First Order. We only see Ren without his helmet in the presence of Supreme Leader Snoke and General Hux — and later when all hell breaks loose on Starkiller Base. So, it’s likely that no other officers and no troopers know Ren’s true identity, but Lor San Tekka in the Jakku village of Tuanal knows. He’s a member of the Church of the Force who’s traveled far. He knows the man beneath the black shroud. And Ren remembers his captive from long ago, perhaps more than he’s consciously aware. There’s a dark and unfortunate history between them. For that story, click here. “Look at how old you’ve become,” he tells San Tekka in disgust. The old man counters with hope. He remembers under the disguise the youth he knew and perhaps loved and tries reach out to him. “I know where you come from,” he tells the enforcer. “The First Order arose from the dark side. You did not.”

In The Force Awakens novelization by Alan Dean Foster, the encounter is described as this: “ Ren spoke first, without hesitation, as if he had anticipated this meeting for some time. ‘The great soldier of fortune — captured at last.” (p. 20). When San Tekka continues to evade Ren’s search for the map, Ren says in the novel, “Don’t turn a simple transaction into a tragedy for these people….Hasn’t your presence here done enough for them already?” San Tekka replies, “I made my peace with these folk and this place long ago.” (p. 20-21).

So, San Tekka is not an innocent. He was a mercenary once, selling his services as a warrior. The Force Awakens Visual Dictionary paints the old man as a desert sage, retired from a life of exploration and adventure. He’s a font of obscure information and wears a Chain of Wisdom around his neck. “As the Empire toppled, retreating Imperial officials destroyed records that would have been vital to the New Republic’s attempts at galactic reconstruction. New Republic bureaucrats turned instead to firsthand accounts from well-travelled locals to fill in the gaps.” (p. 14) Hence, this was the most recent role San Tekka played…until Kylo Ren executed him in cold blood.

ACOLYTES OF THE BEYOND

As a follower of the Church of the Force, the old man was a worshiper of Jedi ideals and believed one day the Jedi would return. “In his travels, Lor San Tekka uncovered much of the history of the Jedi Knights that the Galactic Empire had tried so hard to erase. Others now seek him out for his knowledge of Jedi secrets.” And this, I believe, is why Kylo Ren has sought him out — not only for the map to Skywalker (who is another font of esoteric knowledge) — but to harvest the ancient wisdom locked up in San Tekka’s mind. Ren also hopes to recover any Jedi artifacts the old man may have stumbled upon.

What are these artifacts? We don’t know yet, but we know some of them will feature in The Last Jedi. Director Rian Johnson is all about focusing on the past, digging up relics and showcasing an aspect of the Force we’ve never seen before. One of these relics is Luke’s red kyber crystal shard which he keeps locked in a box and later wears around his neck. It’s said to have belonged to an ancient Jedi. Luke is rumored to keep other relics in his backpack, including an ancient compass, along with a lightning rod — a weapon used by the Jedi of old, possibly like a cattle prod. There are also books of precious Jedi lore kept on the island of Ahch-To, home of the original Jedi Temple and Luke Skywalker’s refuge for many years.

I also suspect Kylo Ren’s been on the hunt for Darth Vader’s effects, specifically his lightsaber. He may believe that the shard of crystal Luke now has belonged to Vader. We know Ren acquired Vader’s melted helmet and enshrined it, feeling its residual dark side power imbued with it. It would make sense for Ben Solo to attach himself to the movement known as the Acolytes of the Beyond, a group of non-Force-sensitives who operated as dark side fanatics worshiping fallen Sith, featured in the Aftermath novels by Chuck Wendig. They purchased Sith artifacts and destroyed them. In doing so, they believed they were returning the objects of power to the dark lords in death. By Kylo Ren’s time, the Acolytes were keeping the artifacts they recovered and using them in uprisings against the New Republic. Ren may have made use of Acolyte cells scattered throughout the galaxy to recover some of Vader’s personal things. Foremost on his list would be Vader’s lightsaber. We assume it was destroyed when the second Death Star exploded, but who knows? Click here for a story involving featuring the Acolytes.

Next time, we’ll continue looking at Kylo’s past and more specifically, his family ties.

@MyKyloRen    29 September 2017

________________________________

Foster, A. D. (2015). The Force Awakens. New York: Del Rey.

Hidalgo, P. (2015). Star Wars: The Force Awakens: the visual dictionary. New York : DK/Penguin Random House.

Szostak, P. (2015). The art of Star Wars, The Force Awakens. New York: Harry N. Abrams.

Ripples in the Force

Padawan Ben Solo stood on the terrace of a secluded resort on the outskirts of Capital City, gazing across the tidal marsh to the waving grasslands beyond. Behind him, a clutch of tourists sat sipping exotic drinks overlooking Lothal’s inland sea. But Ben’s eyes were drawn to the endless swirls and ripples the wind stirred in the long sedges instead of the predictable pattern of the waves. There was nothing new to learn in the surf. The waves were mind-numbing, like Jedi meditation. Yet out there, on the landward side, he keenly felt a presence. The Jedi had left behind their temples. And those who had hunted them had followed, leaving their own ripples in the Force.

They still hunted.

“It doesn’t seem like the Empire was ever here,” he said without turning around.

Dr. Amanda Snoke came up behind her fifteen-year-old charge and handed him a glass of chilled muja juice. He’d been in her custody as a ward of the state ever since he had caused the death of a young boy at age ten. It had been ruled an accident and Ben had been permitted reprieves to see his parents and train with his uncle, but Amanda was his primary guardian during his eight-year sentence. Although only thirty-three, she’d become a renowned psychologist not long after earning her degree for her work in understanding the development of force-sensitive children.

“Yes,” she agreed, joining Ben at the railing. She glanced over at the rounded, white towers hugging the coastline to their left. The mines and refineries — even the Imperial Command Center — had been torn down or converted into luxury residences and civic buildings. The smoke, toxic gas, and dust had long ago been filtered from the atmosphere.

“But my grandfather was here,” Ben went on, his voice distant and pensive. “I feel his presence.”

Amanda’s rosy cheeks dimpled in a smile. Han and Leia had not revealed the identity of Ben’s maternal grandfather to their son, but Amanda believed that such a revelation was essential to the young Jedi’s growth. To understand who he was and what he could become, he needed a clear understanding of the power that coursed through his blood. She’d shared the little family secret with him a few months prior to his fifteenth birthday. He talked of Darth Vader — in private — as his grandfather, but there was still a shadow of doubt in his mind. He couldn’t quite believe how a scrawny kid who had been bullied at school and shadowed by bounty hunters could be the offshoot of one of the most powerful Sith the galaxy had ever known.

So, she’d brought Ben to this frontier world of vanishing farms to celebrate his birthday away from prying eyes and to see him off down a promising path to a new life.

“Speaking of your grandfather,” she said with gentle enthusiasm, “I have some test results to share with you.” She took a small datapad from a pocket and swiped through a few screens. “Here. This top line is the DNA profile of Darth Vader and the middle is Anakin Skywalker’s. The bottom is yours.” She overlaid the top two sequences for an exact match. Next, she laid Ben’s on top and pointed out unique areas of correlation. “There’s no doubt that you are his descendant.”

Ben didn’t need the course he’d taken in advanced genetics to see the near match. It was obvious, right down to the midi-chlorian levels.

“But,” Amanda continued with growing excitement, “what’s truly interesting is how far back in time this profile goes.”

Ben tore his gaze from the display to look up at her. “How far?”

“About 10,000 standard years.” She tapped the display and brought up another screen of tabulated data and charts. “Through your mother’s line, you are the descendant of one of the most powerful Force-users in history — a man who understood both the Light and the Dark. A man named Revan who lived 4,000 years ago.”

Ben looked up again. “I’ve never heard of him.”

Revan, Knights of the Old Republic

“The records the Jedi Council kept on him in the Coruscant archives were lost with the destruction of the temple. But his name and story have survived — sometimes intact, sometimes corrupted — on other worlds. We’ve been able to piece a lot of it back together. Including a copy of his extensive medical records.” She handed him the datapad and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Take a look through the files whenever you want. It’s a little birthday gift to you.” She kissed him on the cheek.

He smiled awkwardly. “Thanks.” He thumbed through a few preliminary screens. “You never told me where you came from. I mean, you said you sort of grew up and went to university here” — he gestured at the expansive city nearby — “but I get the sense this isn’t where your people are from.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“In your mind,” he went on, looking at her intently now, “I see flashes of a gray-brown planet — a place where buildings stand untouched by war, but life, sound, and color are washed away. It’s like the Force doesn’t exist there.”

“Curious,” she returned evenly but with a smile. “Well, this isn’t a world of much color, is it?” She swept a hand at the brown grasslands in front of them. “I’ll tell you the story of my world someday, but right now I’d like you to meet some of friends. They’re part of an ancient order known as the Knights of Ren.”

As she walked him through the tranquil halls of the resort to the glass-domed dining area, she didn’t tell him her people came from beyond the regions of known space.

She didn’t tell him that she’d known Revan…personally.

She didn’t tell him that the lovely human body she occupied was one in tens of thousands she’d inhabited over the millennia.

@MyKyloRen   17 January 2017

Vader’s Spawn

Music spilled from the concert hall like cascades of a moonlit waterfall as Ben Solo mounted the steps and crossed the lantern-lit courtyard. He turned aside from the crowd and strode over to the balustrade to take in the panoramic view of the Naboo capital of Theed. He stood for a long moment, watching the concert-goers sweep around fountains and reflecting pools in the Palace Plaza and up the marble stairs to the university auditorium.

“What are you thinking?” Amanda Snoke said softly, coming up

behind him and wrapping her arms around the young Jedi Knight. At twenty-three, he’d surpassed his father in height, but in her stylish boots, she was taller yet and stunningly beautiful in a mid-length dress of electric blue, her long blond hair festooned with tiny jewels.

“My grandparents stood here,” he answered absently as he opened himself up to the Force. “I can feel them.”

She breathed in deeply, enjoying the scent of him, and kissed his cheek. “I’m sure your grandmother’s family will have lots of stories to tell. They’re excited to meet you.”

After a moment he said, half turning, “Are they?”

They had answered his contact warmly enough, but he sensed great fear in them. They know, he thought. They know the story of Anakin Skywalker. They welcome me only as the grandson of Amidala Naberrie. Of the Jedi Anakin, they will not speak.

“Of course,” Amanda laughed, coming around to give him a quick kiss on the lips. She straightened the luxurious cloth of his jacket over his broad shoulders. He’d eschewed his Jedi robes for formal attire suitable to the Naboo ruling class. “But that’s for tomorrow. Come on.” She gave him a little tug. “Let’s go see these musicians you’ve told me so much about.”

At the door, they were met by a finely appointed usher who greeted them at once. “Prince Organa,” the young man said, addressing Ben with a congenial bow, “We have special seats for you and your companion in the balcony.”

“But we have tickets,” Ben pointed out, producing the image on his datapad.

The usher smiled. “Consider it an upgrade, compliments of the Naberrie family.” He gestured towards an ornate staircase. “If you’ll follow me, please.”

“Well, this is a treat,” Amanda said in an excited whisper as she took Ben’s arm and followed the usher to seats the university reserved for royalty and visiting dignitaries. When they were alone again, she said, “Were you able to get a message through to your mother?”

Ben shook his head. “The subspace relays are down.”

Amanda sighed. “That’s a pity. I’m curious to know if she’s formally accepted the nomination to run for First Senator. I wouldn’t want to miss her speech.”

“We won’t,” Ben assured her, powering down his datapad and returning it to his pocket. He rose to his feet as the musicians took the stage and the audience gave them a standing ovation. Settling back into the plush seat again, he let his mind wander the soundscapes of mesmerizing grandeur and solemn beauty.

Halfway through the concert, the band suddenly broke off mid-tune at a signal from university officials.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said a dour man in professorial robes, “we regret to interrupt this special performance for an important subspace broadcast from Hosnian Prime.”

Ben leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Looks like they got those relays working,” Amanda commented in an undertone.

The holocams flickered to life on stage and brought up the image of Senator Ransolm Casterfo of the Centrist Party. The young politician looked grim and pale, bracing himself against his console, mid-speech.

“It’s the nomination gala,” Amanda said, squeezing Ben’s arm. “Casterfo must be the candidate the Centrists nominated.  He doesn’t look so good.”

“The First Senator of the New Republic can only be granted supreme authority if we, the citizens feel that person deserves our trust,” Casterfo stated boldly.

Ben drew in a breath. “I don’t think he’s giving an acceptance speech,” he told Amanda gravely. He had a bad feeling about this.

“To my deepest regret,” Casterfo went on, “I have learned that Leia Organa does not deserve that trust.” He paused as murmurs began to swell about the Galactic Senate chamber. “Princess Leia’s lies have protected her long enough. Her deception cannot be permitted to endanger the entire galaxy.”

Amanda took Ben’s hand in hers. “What is he talking about?”

Leia’s son quickly got to his feet, pulling Amanda to hers. “We need to leave now,” he urged. He knew what Casterfo would say next.

“If people are considering electing her as First Senator, they have the right to know exactly who they’re voting for. Senator Leia Organa is none other than the daughter of Darth Vader himself!”

The auditorium erupted in a roar as Ben and Amanda reached the entrance to the box seating. Hearing the heavy footfalls of a security detail, the Jedi knight drew his lightsaber, pushing Amanda behind him as he ignited it.

“That won’t be necessary, sir,” the captain of the guard told him as the team came to a halt and fanned out. “We’re here to escort you safely to your ship. We can’t be certain how the crowd will react.”

“Your escort,” Amanda retorted with a lift of her chin as she stepped around Ben, “won’t be necessary. We have one of our own.” She inclined her head at seven grey-coated men that had slipped out of the box seats behind them. Ben had caught snatches of their conversation and assumed they were university students, but on closer inspection of their uniforms, he saw they bore the insignia of the First Order on their sleeves.

Ben Solo deactivated his lightsaber and allowed the Order to form around him and escort him out with Amanda Snoke proudly attached to his arm.

 

@MyKyloRen  18 October 2016

SOURCES:

Casterfo’s speech excerpted from Gray, C. (2016). Star Wars: Bloodline. New York: Del Rey, p. 236-237.

Light My Fire

“This isn’t the one I’m looking for.”

Kylo Ren deactivated the lightsaber and placed it back in the wooden box.

Bazine Netal stared up at the helmeted dark lord, folded her arms and gave a little huff. “It matches the description you gave me. The blade is even blue. Those crystals are hard to come by.” She had gone to a lot of trouble to obtain the weapon on the black market and she expected excellent payment. The young Chaaktil woman hadn’t risked life and limb to become one of the most feared bounty hunters only to be snubbed by a winnable Sith lord. “How do you know it isn’t the right one?” she challenged.

“I make it my business to know such things,” he sneered, his voice sounding extra haughty through the voice-changer.

He wasn’t about to share the mystery of Force-visions with this smartass mercenary. He’d held the blade for a long moment, concentrating on the visions that flashed through his mind – residue of previous owners, most often, but sometimes the Force revealed the future, so one could never be certain of a Jedi weapon’s history. But he’d seen none of the images he’d expected to see – only scenes of a few unknown skirmishes and then…blackness. The saber had seen little action and did not call to him as it surely would…if it were the right one.

He shut the lid on the box, signaling the end of the transaction and drew a datapad out of his robes. With a few taps, he completed the credit transfer into her account.

Bazine gave him a self-satisfied smirk and accessed her own pad. Her smile faded. “This is half the amount we agreed on,” she told him through clenched teeth. “That crystal’s worth at least three-fourths of the original price, but,” she cooed, stepping closer and catching the chin of his helmet between her thumb and forefinger, “I could be persuaded to take less in exchange for a peek under that mask.”

Ren stared down at the lithe figure in the black-and-white baffleweave dress – a pattern which jammed sensors – and the tight-fitting black cowl. If she had hair underneath, it was cropped short, but he’d heard rumors she wore the hood to hid burns inflicted by a flamethrower in her youth.

“What do you think you’ll see if I do?” He always liked asking this question of the curious.

Bazine shrugged, lowering her eyelids under heavily painted black brows, featuring a distinct black stripe that ran down either side of her nose. “Someone surprisingly handsome and a little…damaged.”

“You would be disappointed,” he returned flatly, lifting his chin out of her grasp.

She clucked her tongue and ran her hands up the fabric of his surcoat and under his cowl. “Fine. Keep the helmet on. How about a peek under the robes? I can feel some fine pecs under there.”

Ren said nothing. He gathered up her hands and let them drop to her sides. “You’ll get the rest when you bring me the right saber.” He took the box under his arm and exited her quarters, trailed by two of his Knights and a sweep of black robes.

The bounty hunter pursed her lips distinctly stained the color of dried blood. “Well, you’re no fun.”

Ren paid her no more heed than a bramble fly.

Back inside the hotel suite, he left his men in the luxurious lounge area and headed for the quiet of his own quarters. Alone in the dim chamber, he tore off the confining helmet and stood for a moment, breathing in the fresh air before dropping the helmet on the bed and settling into the chair beside the window. One hundred and four stories up, the room offered an exquisite view of the double moon rise, but the young man focused instead on the box across his knees – the acquisition that bought him halfway across the galaxy.

It was a bitter disappointment.

He closed his eyes, remembering a day in his final teen years when he peered into a similar wooden box with his uncle. They’d spent five years traversing the galaxy on a massive treasure hunt, gathering up every artifact they could that had survived the mass extermination of the Jedi. In many places they visited, Luke Skywalker was heralded as the hero of the galaxy, the Jedi master who killed Darth Vader and brought down the great Empire. But to young Ben Solo, he was the uncle who hid the truth from him, the uncle who had killed his grandfather – Ben’s mother’s father.

Padawan Ben Solo had never let on that he knew his grandfather’s identity and concentrated instead on learning all he could about the Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi knight who died in the Clone Wars the same year Darth Vader’s name appeared in galactic databases everywhere. With confirmation from disparate sources, Ben had connected the dots twelve years before the public did, twelve years before his mother was forced to send a private subspace message telling him why she never told him, telling him how sorry she was.

But she’d wasted her time. He already knew about the power of

Darth Vader, the power of the Chosen One. But the Chosen One had failed when he forgot about the power of the Light. The Force required balance, an equal knowledge of both sides. And so Kylo Ren, Leader of the Knights of Ren – formerly known as the Order of Revan – sought the lost lightsaber of the most powerful Jedi knight of the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Bazine Netal had reported an ex-stormtrooper claimed to have recovered the blade from Vader’s personal effects before the second Death Star was destroyed. The weapon now in the box on his knees had been in Vader’s possession – Ren could feel that much through the Force – but it had not been Kenobi’s.

He put the box on a low table alongside five others and picked up the case in the middle. Reverently, he opened it, drew out the saber within, and thumbed the switch. The blue blade hummed to life and with an eerie glow, lit the face of its new master – the grandson of its original master and creator.

 

@MyKyloRen   12 October 2016

Solo On

Inside the massive assembly chamber of Starkiller Base, the giant holo of Supreme Leader Snoke flickered to life and peered down at the tiny figure shrouded in black before him.

“Kylo Ren,” he said in a voice smoldering with dark authority, “another act of terrorism has been committed in First Order space. Have you seen the holovids?”

Ren lifted his helmeted head to meet his master’s gaze. “Yes.”

“The New Republic supports the supplier of these crime lords who unleash their monsters on our citizens. More than 500 have perished in the massacre on Trillia. It is time we cut off the hand of the wrangler who holds the leash on these monsters. You know of whom I speak,” Snoke added in a voice low and dangerous.

“Han Solo,” Ren dutifully answered, his tone betraying no emotion through the voice-changer.

The Supreme Leader regarded his protégée through narrowed eyes. “Never before have we needed such an operative to infiltrate the network of traitors, murderers, and spies that is the New Republic.” Snoke leaned forward in his great chair. “Only you have the knowledge of Solo’s suppliers and the technical specifications of the Millennium Falcon. It will be a simple matter for you to take out that ship and its pilot, but” – Snoke held up one long, bony finger – “not before you destroy the terrorist cells.”

Ren inclined his head. “It shall be done, my master.”

Snoke inhaled a raspy breath, drawing himself up straight. “Kylo Ren, you must not fail in this mission,” he warned, sensing hesitancy in the dark warrior before him. “Han Solo may have sired you, but it is I who nurtured you and brought you to your full potential.”

“By the grace of your training, I shall not fail.”

“See that you do not. The order of the galaxy depends upon you.” Snoke sat back in his chair. “Man is but a rope stretched over an abyss. Some men sag in their resolve and fall in, but you, my student, I have made you taught, and if need be, I shall stretch you tighter.”

Inwardly, Ren flinched, feeling the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He bowed again. “Understood, my master.”

“Go. Make your preparations and leave at once.”

Ren remained rooted in place as the holo faded and went out. Then after a moment, he turned on his heel and made his way to his private quarters. When the door had hissed shut behind him, he sat down before a low table that served as an altar in a dimly lit alcove. He removed his smothering helmet and set it aside, shaking out his hair, glad to be rid of the confining instrument of intimidation. He turned his focus on the object of reverence before him and addressed it.

“Show me, Grandfather, the power of the Darkness.” At his side his fingers curled into a fist of frustration. “Give me its strength to do what I must do.”

He sat staring at the artifact of his devotion, praying for an answer, praying for the courage he needed to track down and kill his own father, praying for the possibility of deliverance from the snare that had entrapped him.

When Darth Vader’s deformed helmet offered no encouragement or sympathy, Ren’s lip began to tremble. “Why?” he choked, swallowing hard before he could go on. “Why me? Why has this atrocity that is my life befallen me? I have done nothing to deserve this!” A tear trickled down his cheek as he lifted the helmet and pressed it to his forehead. “All I ever wanted was to be able to defend myself and to control this” – he held out his hands in front of him and looked at his gloved fingers in disgust – “this power I have. I didn’t’ ask for it!” he wailed.

“That is the Skywalker legacy, my grandson,” a deep voice intoned from the helmet.

Ren lifted his head and drew breath, wide-eyed and silent. It wasn’t often that the helmet spoke to him, and when it did, he listened, enraptured.

“Your only choice is to bare it well and to bring balance to the Force by bringing order to the galaxy,” the voice went on. “I need you to be strong, Grandson, so that you can finish what I started. The New Republic in its divisive and corrupt ways cannot continue. It divides the Dark from the Light and tears the galaxy apart. Only one as strong as I was can pull the galaxy together.”

Ren wiped his face. “Yes, Grandfather.”

“The Supreme Leader is wise. Go, Lord Ren. Do what must be done and end the ties that bind you to your past and to chaos.”

From somewhere else in the galaxy, Snoke watched his pathetic apprentice through the interactive surveillance device installed within the artifact. He smiled to himself, gratified that the years of studying the mannerisms of Darth Vader were starting to pay off.

 

@MyKyloRen   2 August 2016

Found and Lost

On the forest moon of Endor, Kylo Ren sifted through the layer of ash that had lain forgotten for more than a generation. He was beginning to panic – his gloved hands working faster – believing that the Force had failed him in his search. But then his fingers brushed something unmistakably crafted the Dark Side. The warped and jagged grill of what was once a respiratory vent protruded from the charred remains of a funeral pyre. A little more careful brushing revealed empty eye sockets that had once contained transparisteel lenses. He was glad he hadn’t preformed a Force-summons and risked damaging the fragile object.

Before full dark, the excavation was complete. Ren reverently carried the artifact back to his waiting command shuttle, his knights in tow shouldering their weapons. Although he had said very little and his face was hidden beneath his helmet, they could sense the raw emotion playing over their leader. He was both elated at recovering what he long desired and resentful that there had been so little left. At the shuttle door, he dismissed them with a nod and retrieved an ancient pouch from a blonde woman who held it out to him.

“Take your time,” she told him with a knowing smile, placing the pouch in his outstretched hand. She took his free hand, kissed his fingertips, and let him go. “We’re in no hurry.”

Under the watchful eyes of the little ones, he returned to the forest clearing. He was acutely aware of their fear and drew it to him like a shroud. They would not bother him, afraid as they were of the flash of chrome in the firelight surrounding his sightless eyes. Ren set the melted artifact on the ground and knelt before the small fire he’d kindled.

“On the wings of the Night,” he intoned, opening his arms in an expansive gesture, “I lay you before the feet of the Great Ones to be reborn and return again.” From the pouch, he lifted a pinch of powder – the dried blood of a powerful enemy and a mixture of potent life-giving herbs – and sprinkled it first over the charred helmet and then cast the rest into the fire. The flames flared a brilliant sapphire before settling back into a molten red. “Grandfather, from the coming Night, gather your ancient might. In the light of the stricken sun, drive away the spectre of death and come once more to draw breath.”

He spread his hands over the artifact, splaying his fingers around it as he captured and focused the living Force and imparted it to the ruined thing. Then for a long while, he prostrated himself before it, lying humble and vulnerable as he sought to connect to the Great Ones who were omnipotent and wise. It wasn’t until the near planet had rotated out of view that the answer he sought came upon a light breeze.

“I find your lack of faith in your power disturbing.”

Kylo Ren lifted his head and stared at Darth Vader’s melted helmet. “Grandfather?” The voice in his head was even deeper than he had remembered from old holovids. “Show me the power of the Dark Side and I will finish what you started.”

“Alone you will perish – you a mere mortal – just as I did when I gave into human sentiment. To reach your full potential, you must cast aside all attachments and give yourself to the Supreme Leader who is wise and will guide your training.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Ren answered, bowing his head again. He waited, but when no more instructions came, he slowly got to his feet, kicked the fire out, and returned to the waiting shuttle.

Amanda Snoke stood as he came through the door and watched as he carefully set the helmet in a special receptacle made to receive it. Before he could do anything else, she reached out and removed his own helmet to look upon his stoic features. She laid a hand on his cheek.

“I can see you have your answer,” she said, pressing in close.

She smiled and kissed him.

 

@MyKyloRen     26 July 2016

Owner of a Lonely Heart

SUMMARY: [ABY 34 and 20] After Supreme Leader Snoke punishes Kylo Ren during his training, Ren contemplates suicide but instead finds comfort in a memory from the past — a day he’ll remember the rest of his life. The day he learned Darth Vader’s blood coursed through his veins.

Kylo Ren stood alone in the snow, fingers clenched around the hilt of his lightsaber. In a fit of rage, he ignited it and slashed at the rocky outcrop near the cliff’s edge on Starkiller Base. Chunks of rock splintered and split, spewing up hot embers and tumbling with hissing slabs of ice into the deep ravine.

When he had exhausted his strength, he allowed his knees to buckle under him and he sank into the melted mess at his feet, deactivating his saber. His head drooped and his shoulders slumped under the weight of Snoke’s latest lesson. Ren hadn’t been quick enough to do his master’s biding and had paid the price. The pain had seared like lava through his veins. After a long moment, his breathing slowed and he lifted his head to gaze out over the ravine and thought how easy it would be to step over the edge. It would be over in seconds and then the velvet blackness would surround him. He would feel nothing. Snoke would never let him do it, of course. Even now Snoke knew where Ren was. The Supreme Leader allowed his apprentice his Sithy fits so long as he didn’t harm himself. But whenever Ren thought of destroying himself, Snoke made certain the pain stopped his protégée in his tracks.

Instead, Ren did the only thing he could. He began to draw within himself again, to pull his senses and emotions beneath the shroud he wore. But the cold wet seeping through his robes distracted him and a distant voice began to tug at his mind. It was the blond woman’s voice, calling to him in a motherly tone – authoritative yet soothing.

“Ben! Stop!”

He’d heard her but ignored her plea. The anger raged within him until it had to come out. It had nowhere else to go.

Dr. Amanda Snoke poked her head in the open door of the hangar shed, knowing all too well the sight she’d see. Her teenage charge was in the midst of a full-blown meltdown. The neat racks of tools were hanging askew, every wall was gouged and dented, wrenches and drill bills littered the duracrete floor. A handful of droid parts few past her as she instinctively ducked back out again. She decided to wait until the roars turned to wails. They always did.

She found him on his knees, face buried in his hands. A trickle of blood dribbled down the back of his hand from a cut on his knuckles. She bent over him and put a hand on his head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

His whole body shook as he choked on silent sobs. He felt as if he would never breathe again. He didn’t want to ever breathe again. “She betrayed me!” he blubbered through his fingers.

“Ah.” She tucked a loose strand of his dark tankled hair behind his ear. “The girl you’ve been so smitten with.” She waited, but when he said nothing, she gripped him by the arm. “Come on. Sit with me. Tell me about it.” She looked about for the med kit among the rubble, and when she’d gotten him over to a bench, she took his hand and began to clean his cut.

Ben Solo let out a long breath. “She dumped me for a guy in her class,” he said, keeping his eyes on the floor. “She just told me he raped her.” He bit his lip and lifted his chin. “Suddenly I don’t look so bad to her.”

The woman nodded. “Well, I honestly don’t know why the New Jedi Order has allowed their padawans to form attachments. I think it’s a mistake.” She finished bandaging the wound but held onto his hand. “There are enough distractions for a young mind without romantic attachments weaving a web of lies and deceit.”

Ben wasn’t listening. He looked up, his eyes pleading for understanding. “How could she do that to me?”

“Sometimes girls can be mean in order to get what they want.” She gave him a stern look. “I hope you rejected her. She’s unworthy of you.”

He looked away. After a moment, he nodded.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re strong, just like your grandfather. You’ll get through this.”

“You knew my grandfather?” His eyes immediately brightened. “Which one?”

“Your mother’s father, Anakin Skywalker,” she told him with a smile, “but it was my father who knew him. He told me many stories about your grandfather.”

Ben pulled his hand away and turned to face his guardian. “All my parents have told me is that he was a Jedi Knight who died during the execution of Order 66.”

She gave him a sideways look. “That might be true from a certain point of view, but your grandfather actually died during the Battle of Endor.” Amanda Snoke held his gaze, making sure her charge was following her.

“Your grandfather was Darth Vader.”

@MyKyloRen  10 May 2016

 

Author’s note 11 February 2018:  One of the big mysteries of Ben Solo’s past is how he learned he was the grandson of Darth Vader. In the novel Bloodline (which takes places in ABY 31) by Claudia Gray, Leia never has a chance to tell her son about the skeleton in the Skywalker closet before the information goes public, suggesting that Ben didn’t learn about his heritage until he was 26 or older. With Snoke influencing young Solo from before he was born, I think Ben found out long before that and I think it was Snoke who spoon-fed him that crucial piece of information. From age 15, Ben began to identify with Vader and draw strength from the legend he wanted to become.