Star Wars: The Last Jedi

by Lucasfilm Press

  Yet he also knew that Leia would find him one day. She was his twin sister, after all, a Skywalker, strong in the Force. Stubborn, too—a woman who would not give up until she got what she needed.

  Luke himself had grown stubborn over the years. He loved his sister, but he would stand his ground. For there was a reason Ahch-To’s location had been hidden. The world held many secrets—secrets Luke had pledged to protect.

  Inside his hut, Luke changed into a dark tunic and trousers and folded his Jedi robes in a storage chest. Once everything was neatly in place, he closed his eyes and relaxed. His worries began to vanish, one after another. Peace took hold.

  A banging at the door broke his meditation, followed by the voice of the girl. “I’m with the Resistance. Your sister sent me and we need your help.”

  Luke’s eyes flicked open. His irritation returned. “Go away.”

  The door rattled and, with a crack, broke from its frame. An enormous brown-haired Wookiee tossed the door aside and marched into his hut.

  “Chewie?” Luke said. “What are you doing here?”

  Chewbacca roared as Leia’s young messenger entered behind him. “He said you’re coming back with us,” the girl said.

  “I got that,” Luke said, then addressed Chewbacca. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Chewbacca bellowed again, teetering toward anger. When enraged, Wookiees could become wildly violent. They had the strength to rip arms out of sockets if provoked.

  Luke wasn’t afraid. For all his ferocity, Chewbacca was a friend.

  “How did you find me?” Luke asked.

  The girl spoke for the Wookiee. “Long story. We’ll tell you on the Falcon.”

  “The Falcon? Wait—” Luke craned his neck to glance out the doorway. No one else was out there. “Where’s Han?”

  Rey looked away from him. Chewbacca mewled. Their sadness said it all.

  Han Solo was dead.

  A TURBOLIFT took Kylo Ren through the many levels of the Mega-Destroyer Supremacy. Clad all in black, with his mask, cape, helmet, and armor, he presented the image of strength. But it was his heart that his master would probe. It beat in his chest, hard as a stone.

  The turbolift stopped and the grill of its doors parted. Kylo Ren strode out into the throne room of Supreme Leader Snoke.

  A wide bridge led into a spacious chamber arched by steel supports. Dark crimson curtains shrouded the walls and windows. Mysterious purple-robed attendants, their eyes glowing under their hoods, lurked around a sophisticated oculus device that offered views of space. But what Ren took most notice of were the silent warriors who stood four abreast on each side of the room. Armed and armored in gleaming red, they seemed outfitted for ceremony, yet in actuality they were ready for combat at a moment’s notice. These eight were the First Order’s most elite fighters, the Praetorian Guards, and the various weapons they carried—pikes and polearms, vibro-voulges and electro-whips—could slice through the hardest metal or electrocute a being with a single lash. Ren respected them for their prowess, aware that as a group they could overpower him. Little respect, however, did he have for the ingrate of an officer who had arrived first. The meddlesome General Hux lingered before the throne, on which sat the Supreme Leader of the First Order himself.

  Tall though he was, Snoke did not match the giant form he projected in hologram communications. Yet he did not need size to impose his will. The mere sight of him could terrify. For Snoke was a creature of skin and scar, a grotesque warping of life itself. Some great wound had split his bald head long before, and half his face and neck were melted in a twist of perpetual torment. Gold-flecked robes draped his gaunt frame while gold-threaded slippers swaddled his feet. When sitting, he leaned forward, his spine bent like a decrepit old hunchback. But age and appearance mattered little to Ren. All that mattered was the power Snoke could teach him.

  General Hux walked toward the lift, smirking at Ren as he passed. It took every bit of Ren’s self-control that he not choke the wretch. Hux may have rescued him from death on Starkiller Base, but that was only because the Supreme Leader had commanded it. Hux was the reason the First Order still lacked complete control of the galaxy. His poor leadership had cost them their superweapon and he deserved to be punished for it.

  “Hux’s plan seems to be working,” Snoke said, his voice wet and oily. He always seemed to know what Ren was thinking. “The Resistance will soon be in our grasp.”

  At the turbolifts, Hux widened his snide grin. “Thank you, Supreme Leader.”

  Ren fumed under his mask. As long as Hux had Snoke’s confidence, Ren couldn’t touch him. But the instant Hux lost it, Ren would be there to strike him down—an act he would enjoy.

  Hux entered the turbolift and the doors closed. Ren stepped forward and dropped to a knee before the throne.

  “You wonder why I keep a rabid cur in such a place of power?” the Supreme Leader asked. “Mark this—a cur’s weakness, properly manipulated, can be a sharp tool.”

  Ren said nothing. Whenever his master lectured, it was better simply to listen.

  “How’s your wound?”

  This question demanded an answer, and Ren didn’t flinch. “It’s nothing,” he said, his voice distorted. The electronic vocoder in his mask needed to be fixed.

  Snoke snickered. “The mighty Kylo Ren. When I found you, I saw what all masters love to see. Raw, untamed power. And beyond that, something truly special—the potential of your bloodline. A new Vader.”

  The praise invigorated Ren. This was what he wanted from his master. This was the respect he deserved.

  “Now I fear I was mistaken.”

  Ren’s heart missed a beat. How could his master say that? Did he not know the deed he had done on Starkiller Base?

  “I’ve given everything I have to you—to the dark side.” He blinked moisture from his eyes. “Everything.”

  Snoke’s voice hardened. “Take that ridiculous thing off. The mask.”

  The command infuriated Ren. He wore the mask to project the same soul-crushing fear that his grandfather, Darth Vader, had inspired during the glorious days of the Empire. Yet after all Ren had done to secure his master’s favor, his efforts were mocked. And he hated his master for it.

  Still, he obeyed.

  Ren pulled off the helmet and unclasped the mask from his face. His skin was tender and raw underneath. Thick black sutures stitched the gash on his cheek that the girl had given him in their forest duel. He hadn’t received bacta treatment in time to completely restore his skin. But the resulting scar would be a constant and painful reminder of what she had done to him. It would fuel his hate. It would motivate his vengeance.

  Snoke bent down but didn’t acknowledge Ren’s wound. He touched Ren under his eye. “Yes, there it is.” His spidery finger came up wet with a tear. Disgusted, he wiped it across Ren’s face. “You have too much of your father’s heart in you, young Solo.”

  Ren was about to explode. “I killed Han Solo! When the moment came, I put my blade through him. I didn’t hesitate!”

  “And look at you. The deed split your spirit to the bone. You were unbalanced, bested by a girl who had never held a lightsaber. You failed.”

  Ren would take no more of his master’s ridicule. His free hand dropped to the hilt of his lightsaber.

  It never got close.

  Bolts of electricity burst from Snoke’s hands and coursed into Ren’s body. Ren fell back, scorched and smoking.

  Snoke relented and his Praetorians surrounded Ren, their various weapons pointed at him. “Skywalker lives. The seed of the Jedi Order lives. As long as it does, hope lives in the galaxy.”

  Twitching from the electrocution, Ren pushed himself back up, cradling his helmet in his arm. His master continued to belittle him. “I thought you would be the one to snuff it out. Alas, you’re no Vader. You’re just a child with a mask.”

  Ren refused to listen to any more. He spun on a boot and strode back across the bridge into the turbolift. He could feel
his master’s stare on his back, but he did not turn around.

  When the lift doors shut, Ren bashed his helmet into the wall again and again. It dented and fractured. He imagined it was his master’s head, turning to pulp. The fool would regret ridiculing him.

  The lift stopped and the doors opened. A pair of First Order lieutenants chatted outside. Seeing Ren, they froze.

  In their eyes, Ren saw the very fear he had wanted to project. He didn’t need a mask. These officers were afraid of him and his fury.

  “Get my fighter ready,” he barked and walked past them, flinging the pieces of his helmet at their feet.

  The twin suns of Ahch-To bathed the village in the soft gold of afternoon. But the warm light gave little comfort to the three people seated outside the huts, especially Rey. The story she had begun with how she befriended Finn turned into tragedy as she revealed Kylo Ren’s murder of his own father and her mentor.

  “Han Solo was my friend,” she said.

  It was obvious Han had been the same to Luke Skywalker, even if they hadn’t seen each other in years. The Jedi Master appeared shaken. Sitting next to him, Chewbacca moaned.

  Rey returned to the purpose of her visit. “Leia showed me projections of the First Order’s military. It’s massive, and now that the Republic is destroyed, there’s nothing to stop them. They will control all the major systems within weeks. They’ll destroy the Resistance, Finn, everyone I care about. Will you help us? You have to help us,” she pleaded. “We need the Jedi Order back. We need Luke Skywalker.”

  Luke’s face hid nothing. Sadness was etched across it, but also wisdom and kindness. He was not someone who could turn his back on those in danger.

  “No,” Luke said.

  Rey thought she had misheard him. “What?”

  He rose from the ground. “You don’t need Luke Skywalker.”

  Rey jumped up, wanting to howl at him. “Did you hear a word I just said? We really, really do!”

  Her insistence got her nowhere with Luke. “You think, what, that I’m going to walk out with a laser sword and face down the whole First Order?” he asked. “The Jedi, if you had them back, a few dozen knights in robes, what do you think they would actually do?”

  Rey recalled a phrase she had learned from the Jedi legends. “Restore the…balance of…”

  Luke shook his head. “And what did you think was going to happen here? Do you think I don’t know my friends are suffering, that I came to the most unfindable place in the galaxy for no reason at all?”

  “Then why did you come here?” Rey snapped back.

  Luke glanced at Chewbacca, who had remained quiet, as if he understood something about Luke that Rey did not. Then the Jedi bunched up his robes and headed to his hut, lifting the door back into its frame.

  “I’m not leaving without you,” Rey called after him.

  LEIA drank tea in her cabin on the Raddus, gazing at the swirls of hyperspace through her viewport. For the moment, the tunnel of light represented safety. Once the Resistance fleet returned to realspace, however, it would be vulnerable to attack. The rendezvous point in the remote Oetchi system would no doubt give them all a chance to regroup, but the Resistance’s long-term survival depended on finding a secure place to rebuild and rally her Jedi brother to their cause. Without him, she knew they would never defeat the First Order.

  She also missed Luke.

  Leia had lost so much over the years—her homeworld, her parents, her Republic, her son, and most recently, Han, her husband. It seemed that everything she loved had been torn away from her to cause the most pain. She had endured it all, with little time to grieve. But how much could one person suffer? She needed her twin, now more than ever. She needed someone with whom she could talk and share her pain. Luke would understand.

  Leia let the emotion pass through her. Many more beings had endured far worse catastrophes. She had to remain strong. The members of the Resistance were looking up to her, not her brother, to lead them in their struggle for freedom. They had answered the call to join her and she could not abandon them.

  The safety of hyperspace broke apart into lines. Then the viewport showed a dark void, speckled with stars. General Leia Organa strode out of her cabin and headed to the bridge.

  Poe came out from his quarters, his old flight jacket over an arm. BB-8 rolled beside him, Finn a step behind, putting on the shirt and trousers that Poe had lent him. Poe had gotten Finn up to speed on everything that had happened, but Finn had a million more questions. “So you blew up the Starkiller Base, Rey beat Kylo, the Resistance got the map—you won, right? Why does this not feel like winning?”

  Poe led the way down the corridor toward the bridge. “We came out of hiding to attack Starkiller. It didn’t take the First Order long to find our base.”

  “Look, Poe, I believe in what you guys are doing, but…” The former stormtrooper hesitated. “I didn’t join this army. I followed Rey here. I just don’t want you thinking I’m something I’m not.”

  Poe tried to reassure his friend with a smile. “It’s gonna be all right. Don’t worry. You’re with us, where you belong.”

  He stopped and gave Finn his flight jacket. Finn had saved it from the TIE fighter crash on Jakku, and when they met again on D’Qar, Poe had told him to keep it. But when Finn was admitted to the medcenter, the jacket came back into Poe’s possession. Hoping his friend would recover, Poe had tried to mend it as best he could, stitching combat patches over the tears and burn marks from Kylo Ren’s lightsaber. “I’m not much of a sewer. Plus, I was, you know, saving the fleet.”

  Finn didn’t seem as eager to accept the jacket as he had on D’Qar. Poe understood his wariness. Finn was still recuperating from nearly being killed. It might take him a while, but he’d eventually come around. He was a soldier, and soldiers never gave up the fight.

  They rounded the corner and walked onto the bridge, where General Organa was inspecting a holographic star chart with Admiral Ackbar, Commander D’Acy, and other Resistance officers.

  When Poe went up to her, she welcomed him with a slap to the face. “You’re demoted.”

  Poe grimaced. He’d expected a reprimand, but never losing his rank. “For what, a successful run? We took out a Dreadnought!”

  “At what cost? Pull your head out of your cockpit.” She began to turn away from him.

  Poe felt the need to defend himself. “You start an attack, you carry it through.”

  “There are things you can’t solve by jumping in an X-wing and blowing something up. I need you to learn that.”

  “There were heroes on that mission,” he said.

  “Dead heroes,” General Organa said. “No leaders.”

  She was a small woman, yet her words landed with tremendous force. He felt ashamed he had failed her, and any further explanation would be nothing more than an excuse.

  During their argument, Finn had been studying the holographic star chart above the command table. Their present location appeared empty of stars and celestial bodies. “We’re really nowhere. Deep space,” he said. “How’s Rey going to find us?”

  General Organa pulled back her sleeve and revealed a black-corded bracelet adorned with aspherical metal device. It shone faintly.

  “A cloaked binary beacon?” Finn asked.

  The general smiled. “To light her way home.”

  Finn returned to the map. “So until she gets back, what’s the plan?”

  “We need to find a new base,” the general said.

  “One with enough power to get a distress signal to our allies scattered in the Outer Rim,” suggested D’Acy. A career military officer, the tough-as-nails commander had seen her fair share of battles over the years.

  “And most important, we need to get there undetected,” General Organa added.

  Emergency lights suddenly flashed. Sirens began to sound. “A proximity alert!” Ackbar shouted.

  Poe couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “That can’t be—”

  In the l
arge viewport around the bridge, thirty First Order Star Destroyers emerged from hyperspace. One dwarfed them all, a thunderhead of a vessel. Veins of illumination ran along the kilometers of its surface to a central command area the size of a major metropolis. And it was armed with giant turbolaser cannons from bow to stern—on both sides.

  It was Supreme Leader Snoke’s flagship, the Mega-Destroyer Supremacy.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Poe said. It made no sense that the First Order had found them so quickly. “Can we jump to lightspeed?”

  Lieutenant Connix checked her readouts. “We have enough fuel for just one jump.”

  “Do it fast, we have to get out of here,” Poe said, watching squadrons of TIE fighters launch from the Destroyers. If the Resistance fleet didn’t jump soon, it would be swarmed.

  “Wait.” General Organa stared at the warships. “They tracked us through hyperspace.”

  “That’s impossible,” Poe said.

  “Yes, it is,” the general said. “And they’ve done it.”

  Poe didn’t argue. Her explanation seemed to be the only possibility. First Order engineers had built the Starkiller superweapon, so it was conceivable they could invent a tracking device that transmitted through hyperspace.

  Finn offered his own assessment. “So if we jump to lightspeed, they’ll just find us again and we’ll be out of fuel. We’re trapped. They’ve got us.”

  “Not yet they don’t.” Poe turned to General Organa. “Permission to jump in an X-wing and blow something up.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Granted. Admiral, swing us around.”

  Cannon fire from the Mega-Destroyer rattled everyone on the bridge. Ackbar leaned a webbed hand on a console to maintain his balance. “Full astern! Rotate shields!”

  Poe ran off the bridge, Finn a few steps behind him. More shots rocked the cruiser. The pattern of the blasts told Poe that some of the TIEs were already on them. BB-8 wheeled ahead of them, squealing that they needed to go faster.

  “Don’t wait for me!” Poe told BB-8. “Get in and fire her up!”

  Poe followed the droid into the hangar. Tallie and the other pilots sat in the cockpits of their starfighters and prepared for launch.