Chapter 21: The Skywalker Legacy

The Amaya streaked across the arid desert sky, passing over oceans of sand that had partially swallowed the bleached skeletons of Imperial and Republic ships. The smoke had dissipated decades ago, and the carcasses of the great space craft had been picked clean by scavengers, leaving the vast expanses of the Jakku deserts to conduct their slow, methodical ingestion of the carcasses of the Civil War. The Amaya soared past this wreckage and over a canyon to the burnt out remains of an old Imperial facility, itself crumbling into the encroaching desert.

The Amaya came to rest at the ledge where Luke and Leia had landed so many years ago. After the ship settled to the ground, its boarding ramp lowered, and Kira, cloaked and hooded, stepped forward into the blinding desert sunshine. She walked slowly toward a weathered rock set near the edge of the ledge overlooking the canyon. Sand had scoured the rock so that the word "Amaya" was now barely legible. Kit kneeled to the ground next to the rock, straining for nearly an hour in the blazing sun to find some sense of her mother's presence, hearing only the distant echoes of the past – nightmares of torture and loneliness.

She knew that the Jedi had learned to separate their essences from their bodies before death. Her mother, so warm, so reassuring, had not. She knew that the echoes she heard were only in her memory, and she had learned to mute their impact years ago. She was not sure what she was expecting to find here; she only felt the compulsion to be near her mother - to find some reassurance that she was not a monster like her father. The desert sands and the blazing Jakku sun offered no such reassurances – only heat, discomfort, and the vague assurance of death and desiccation.

As she began to slip into a vortex of doubt, she felt a stirring in her senses as a familiar presence pressed in on her. Only one person had ever done that; she had allowed it, even encouraged it, as a child. It was the first time she truly felt connected to somebody, and Ben, feeling alone and isolated while playing in the government residences under the supervision of his nanny, had been eager to soothe his own loneliness. As adolescence approached, they had sworn to respect each other's private inner world. After nearly a decade of respect for each other's privacy, she could feel Ben Solo's consciousness pressing in on her, determined to find her.

"Stop it, Ben," she demanded.

Ben's form materialized before her. It was not distinct and clear, tinged in aura like that of a ghost. Instead, it was blurry and indistinct, with some features vague and shadowy. Ben's eyes were the only distinct part; the rest of him was distant and distorted.

"Hello, Kira," Ben said, his voice echoing.

"You promised, Ben," Kira accused him, feeling the heat of betrayal.

"Where are you?" he asked. He looked around trying to get a sense of her surroundings, and she could tell that his sense of her location was indistinct at best. She ignored the question, instead turning away, and attempting to close her mind to him. Ben increased his effort to connect in concert, and he implored her, "Please, Kira. We need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you," she said coldly.

Ben stood alone on the Jedi Council floor, straining to get a sense of her indistinct background and ascertain her location. "This news must have hit you hard."

Kira did not respond. Instead, she continued her attempts to sever the connection. The heat was starting to affect her, and her concentration was starting to wane. Ben sensed her fatigue, and he pressed on. "We know you had no idea. We want you to come home."

"And then what?" Kira asked, tensely.

Ben hesitated as she looked away from him yet again. Her efforts to sever the connection ceased, and instead, she walked past him to the shade of the building, where she collapsed against a heavily scorched wall in exhaustion. "A blessing in disguise, maybe? I know you've suffered. I know you're in pain. So much of that pain could disappear."

"Did the Jedi make you do this?" Kira asked, her face stony and her voice icy.

Ben blanched at her question. He had believed the Jedi set him on the path to help him overcome his attachments. He did not appreciate the insinuation that he was being used. He felt guilt at crossing the line they had set years ago, but he saw it as part of what he needed to do to help her. "No. The Jedi knew you needed somebody who cared about you to bring you home."

"Is that why you invaded my mind?" Kira asked pointedly.

"I had to find you, before. . .," Ben began, but he stopped short.

"Before what?" she asked, her suspicions deepening.

Ben's manner became more urgent. "Kira, please listen to me. The Jedi have rejoined the Republic. Bolsko is making a lot of noise about you. The Council wants abolition to protect you from being the victim of a witch hunt."

"Abolition," Kira muttered, chilled to the core.

"If you come voluntarily, you face abolition, but nobody will hurt you after that. It'll be over. Anonymity. Everyone forgets," Ben promised, a note of pleading in his voice. Kira heard the fear there and took it as a sign that he was sincere about abolition, at the very least.

"And if I don't?" Kira asked, suspicious.

"I don't know, but they're talking about how you attacked Republic guards and nearly killed Master Rancisis. It's. . . it's bad." Ben said, and she could see his genuine worry for her.

"And Luke? Your mother?" Kira asked, her temptation to yield tempered by her fear for her mentors.

Ben's expression hardened. "My mother and my uncle must be held accountable."

"By the Jedi?" Kira asked, suspicious.

"They both face abolition. Then, they will stand trial. There's suspicion of fraud, corruption. . ." Ben said.

Kira interrupted, "And you believe this?"

"I don't know what to believe anymore," Ben said, attempting to change the subject. "Kira, you must act now. The Council will not wait. . ."

Kira looked at Ben with cold dread. Her childhood friend – the first to understand her and help her learn to communicate - was prepared to turn in his mother and uncle, allow them to lose their power, and then stand by while they faced persecution; all for concealing their parentage. A cold anger seeped through her body as disappointment and disbelief over Ben's choices flooded her.

"Leave me alone, Ben," Kira ordered as she worked to shut her mind to the connection.

"Kira, if you don't come in willingly. . ." Ben began, but she cut him off.

"I said leave me alone!" Kira roared, and from her fingertips shot arcs of blue lightning. They passed through Ben, dissipating his presence immediately.

Back on Coruscant, Ben fell backward. He had not felt the bolts, but he felt the surge in anger toward him. He had seen her filled with rage, and for the first time since he had heard the truth of her lineage, he began to fear her.

Kira lowered her hands, and the lightning dissipated. She looked at the spot where Ben had stood, feeling horrified with herself. It had been defensive, but the attack was what Palpatine would have done. He would have done it to kill, to torture. She did not want to hurt him, but she could not deny the anger she felt.

She sank to the ground and slumped over. BD-5 stepped tentatively out of the Amaya and quietly began clucking and fussing around her. He attempted to give her water, but she did not respond. The sun had sunk, leaving an orange-purple gradient glow unfurling across the horizon. Ben had gone, and she was alone again, knowing not where to go. The thought of disconnecting from the Force terrified her. Despite it being a conduit for nightmares and darkness, it was also her source of her comfort, her connection, her family. It was what enabled her to protect and to help others. It was who she was. Without it, what would she be? An anonymous stranger on a distant land forever trying to outrun her memories – if, and only if, she could even trust that this would be her fate. If Luke and Leia were about to be dragged through a performative persecution, what would happen to her?

Now the Jedi would be hunting her, and with her last attack, she knew that they would be less gentle than Ben had been. She could run, attempting to find anonymity on her own. But she had concluded that the Jedi were pushing Ben to do this, and with Luke likely gone, the liberal attitude of attachment would give way to Master Rancisis's conservative views. She suspected Ben would not leave her alone until he had found her.

BD-5 continued to attempt to ascertain whether she was safe, and the droid grew more worried as it could not identify her emotional state. It read her vital signs again and continued to keep clucking and doting on her. She gave the droid a faint smile, saying, "It's ok, friend. I'm going to be alright."

The droid trilled an inquiry about what she needed, and Kira looked back toward the horizon, not knowing how to answer. She knew the droid would not understand the desire to be a completely different person altogether. She was starting to wonder if maybe it would be best if she simply did not exist any longer. She looked to horizon and said to BD-5, "Maybe it would be best if I wasn't alive anymore."

"And what good would that do anybody?" spoke a disembodied male voice. Kira stood, her guard up. She reached for her lightsabers, prepared for a fight. Had they found her?

In front of her, a blue light materialized, slowly morphing into the form of a man. The vision coalesced into the person of Anakin Skywalker, translucent and rimmed with blue light.

"Master Skywalker?!" she asked, astonished.

Anakin smiled and nodded, showing a flash of the arrogant charm that had come so easily to him in life. "I figured you could use some company," he said, and he sat himself down on a nearby rock. His foot shifted across the sand, and he said, grinning, "Pity you chose a desert planet."

Kira was astonished to finally meet the legendary Master, whom she now recognized had also become Darth Vader. Her feelings were conflicted, and she was unsure if she wished to speak to him. She felt that she did not need counsel so much as the ability to outrun the truth, the Jedi, her own mind. The Jedi Master, who had been both the hero and the scourge of the galaxy, sat regarding her, smiling broadly. Suddenly, she realized that if anybody could relate to her, it was him.

"Why didn't Luke and Leia tell anybody?" she asked.

Anakin, still smiling, explained, "My children knew that the galaxy needed a legend. They knew that tarnishing that legend could set them back a long way. They also knew that people weren't ready to separate a person from a name. That's why they also kept you anonymous."

"But you know what I can do. . .what I've done?" she asked, feeling the weight of her father's name bearing down on her.

"At this point, all you've done is lost your temper a few times. What you can do. . . well, it seems less important what you're doing than why you're doing it," he explained.

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"Intention matters, Kira," he said, cryptically.

"But if your intentions are good and your actions are harmful?" she countered.

"I know better than anybody," he said, and she could see a shadow pass across his face. "But as far as Palpatine is concerned, he only ever used his power to dominate and control. You. . . Defense? Protection? Sure, but never to harm."

"Nobody else is going to understand that, though," she stated, sinking into hopelessness again.

"Really?" said Anakin, feigning surprise. "You can't think of anybody who knows that a person's name does not define them?"

"Do you mean. . ." she asked, pensive, still confused.

"My children," explained Anakin. "My son, who redeemed a monster because he saw the good in him. My daughter, who rescued the child of a monster because she believed a different fate was possible." Kira stared at him, feeling the sense of pieces falling into place. Anakin continued, "Right now, many in the galaxy are cursing our name, our legacy. But the Skywalker legacy never lied in blowing up Death Stars and killing Sith lords."

"Faith. . ." Kira whispered.

Anakin completed her thought, "In the good in people." He smiled at her, sensing the shift back toward hope in her attitude.

Kira's warm feeling was fleeting as confusion seeped in. She turned toward the burnt-out ruins of the facility and again heard the echoes of the past. Kira voiced the question that had plagued her since she found out the truth. Looking toward the burnt ruins of the old Imperial facility, she asked, "Why did the Emperor have me?"

Anakin paused, collecting his thoughts. He frowned in concentration, then said, "Before Endor, the Emperor became very preoccupied with his own death. Over the decades I served him, he was always trying to discover the secret of immortality. We worked together to discover the secret of separating one's essence from one's body, but he never seemed confident that he had all the knowledge he required. It was the only time he ever seemed afraid."

Anakin paused, sifting through old memories, then continued. "Luke received word of a secret Imperial genetics facility, and we feared that the Emperor had succeeded. We staged the battle of Jakku to discover what the facility's purpose was, but when Luke and Leia got there. . ."

"They found me," Kira interrupted.

"Yes. They quickly discovered who you were," Anakin continued. "We knew now that the Emperor had failed and that he was truly dead. We guessed that they were raising you to be the vessel to carry his essence. He would have used your mother's life force to bond himself to your body and take over your mind."

Kira was horrified to hear this explanation. She was surprised to see Anakin smile.

"It wouldn't have worked," Anakin explained, smiling at the Emperor's hubris. "Amaya was much more a part of you than the Emperor knew."

"So, he wouldn't have been able to use my body?" Kira asked, uncertain.

"Unlikely," Anakin acknowledged, then his face hardened. "Your mother had attached herself too much to you. As a man who only saw attachments as weaknesses to manipulate, he underestimated their protective factors."

Realization dawned on Kira. "Is that why you turned back to save Luke?"

"That's right," Anakin said, his voice somber. He looked across the vast expanse of desert, which was now visible only as a black silhouette against a purple sky before continuing. "I turned to the dark side to save their mother. I turned back to the light because I saw her in them."

"So. . . I'm not a monster?" Kira asked, tentatively.

"That does not need to be your fate," Anakin said, smiling gently.

"But, the vision. . . he said I'd become everything I've sworn to defeat," Kira said, seeking reassurance.

"The cave shows you what you fear, nothing more. Yes, you carry darkness. But there is also powerful light in you, Kira. Who you become depends solely on the choices you make." Anakin finished his explanation, looking toward her with respect and confidence.

As Kira continued to wrestle with the notion that she was not bound by fate to her father's legacy, and as she considered the legacy of the Skywalker family to be faith in people, she felt her strength and conviction return. Then, a concern passed across her mind, one that she had shut out as she flew to Jakku immersed in her anguish, "Luke and Leia – are they safe?"

"They're going to need you," Anakin admitted. "Grave danger awaits. A dark threat emerges. . ." Anakin paused, looking out to the distance. He became concerned, then his tone became more urgent. "Listen, Kira, before I turned to the dark side, Darth Sidious told me of. . . the. . . to con. . . secret. . . could not. . ." Anakin's ghost flickered, and his voice became disconnected, disrupted, and disjointed.

"Anakin?" Kira called. "Anakin?!"

But Anakin did not respond. His ghost had vanished, leaving no trace. She could not sense anything of him. She did not know how to interpret what had happened, but the sudden disappearance was disquieting. She knew from her training that the Departed Masters vowed not to interfere, but that they were able to appear anywhere and at any time. What could cause Anakin to disappear?

She considered what he said about Luke and Leia needing her. She looked to her ship, then reached out to the Force. The Force felt as it always had, although the sense of the desert and the darkness of the Imperial facility were like a splinter in her mind. She reached out into the Force, calling "Leia?" Immediately, a sense of her former mentor returned, speaking her name.

She rose to her feet, and BD-5 trilled concernedly. "Get the ship ready," she told him.