To Do the Next Right Thing

Part 1

To Do the Next Right Thing

Chapter 1

The finality of the war truly didn't sink in until Rey had buried the sabers on Tatooine.

In fact, it all passed her in this insanely cloudy blur of everything happening too fast, too suddenly. The defeat of the Emperor—her grandfather, she had to keep reminding herself—weighed upon her with the burden of becoming one with all the Jedi of generations past; it brought this sinking feeling to her stomach every time she activated either Luke's or Leia's sabers, like their purity shouldn't touch her muddled, unclean bloodline. Should have never been in her hands in the first place.

Yes, she sensed their presence there on Luke's home planet, where it all began. She told the traveler the name "Skywalker" only because in that moment, something in the Force compelled her to answer that way. She sensed she had their blessing to use it, to claim it as something better than her reality.

It didn't feel like the name belonged to her now, with the sabers safe beneath the sand. BB-8 sensed her unease once back onboard the Falcon, commenting that she shouldn't feel down—she had the galaxy laying before her, her staff converted into a lightsaber that was truly hers.

He was right, as per usual. But it didn't stop the silent trek back to Ajan Kloss.

Rey Skywalker. Rey Palpatine. Neither rolled off her tongue particularly well.

Leia had given her the kyber crystal what seemed like ages ago, claiming she'd know what to do with it when the time came.

"One day," Leia had promised, her strong hand enclosing around Rey's before she could refuse it. She didn't touch it again until she finally felt ready to bond with it.

The fear of the glow it would give off kept her from making her own saber for so long, especially after trying to come to terms with her heritage. She couldn't have red. She'd refuse red. Red reflected the former Kylo Ren. It reflected Darth Vader, killing Anakin Skywalker.

It was the color her grandfather had tried to impose on her, trying to get her to see in all red, to see with blind hatred.

And yet, she didn't deserve blue—someone like Finn did. Hence, why she'd needed Finn and Poe with her when Rey finally bonded with her crystal. Its yellow glow surprised them all: Poe with confusion, Finn with ecstasy, Rey with relief. Unlike her name, her kyber crystal at least showed her something within her that wasn't conflicted, that reflected a true nature not even she could yet place.

When she returned to Ajan Kloss, still finding the sight of such lush greens a bit jarring, she was as always greeted with too much pomp and circumstance, a blur of hugs and pats and congratulations that didn't feel earned or deserved. She wasn't Finn and Poe, who had bravely led their little Resistance into what seemed like a lost cause against the Final Order. She wasn't Jannah, who was willing to give her life taking down the Final Order's main Star Destroyer, nor was she Chewie, spreading their message of hope across the galaxy to join the fight.

Rey just went into her own individual fight, that to her didn't seem so impactful or important—much as she'd wanted to help her friends. Palpatine had gotten into her very essence so easily, and now... now all she had to show for it was a name she didn't want to take on and the true death of Kylo Ren and Ben Solo. A "true Jedi" she was, sure, but a war hero? She deserved no such respect.

"How was your mission?" Poe asked, bypassing Rey to kneel down and make sure BB-8 hadn't returned with any damage. In tact, as per usual.

"It's done," Rey stated plainly, her fingers playing with the hilt of her new saber. Much as she'd been used to her quarter staff, turning it into a lightsaber would sure take some getting used to, especially after using Luke's for so long. "How has the base been holding up, General?"