Hours may have passed, Days, even. All semblance of time was thrown out the window.

She's Back in the liquid again, though, this time, she can begin to feel; feel the slick walls of what felt like a tub, offering no purchase at all. Could feel an unbearable coldness blanketing her body. Also, she seemed to be able to hear now, As a chorus of hushed whispers and chatter surrounded the tub like a miasma of jumbled words and phrases.

"Black Sun leader 3."

"Sith girl."

"Trapped."

"Ren."

She felt incredibly ill. Memories slinked back to her mind, images of being trapped within the slick guts of a ship during a sandstorm; she began frantically pawing at either side of the slippery walls that seemed to be closing in on her. And they were talking about emhim/em. Her heart constricted, she wanted to know where he was. Could he be? No. No, she left him breathing on the ship, and that's how she was going to find him.

And she will find him.

She's thinking about the woman she encountered...yesterday? No matter, she wonders who the sable-haired woman is. She wants to know what is going on, who raided the ship. She just wants to be back home for kriff sake.

She's feeling so frustrated! All of her futile desires come washing down her cheeks in fat tears; she sits in dumb amazement, not at the tears, no, But she couldn't SEE. A silent scream tears and tugs against her vocal chords. THIS JUST KEEPS GETTING BETTER AND BETTER DOESNT IT?! She hears a chuckle above her head; someone is laughing at her antics. She ought to give them something to laugh for.

Her skin feels raw from attempting to launch herself out of the tub, from seeking to swipe at the horrible laugh. Suddenly the atmosphere changes, the air gaining a milky fragrant quality, she feels her unseeing eyes flutter shut and her mind, once again is gone with the force.

Rey awakens once again to the molten brown eyes of the mysterious woman. Disappointment creases her features as she gazes at Rey.

"You're still here" she notes, sadness in her tone.

"You didn't exactly give me any instruction, I'm sure rising from the dead is harder than it seems," Rey says defensively, she wasn't sure what this lady wanted out of her, and the straight up oddness of it all was beginning to make her weary. But the woman just smiles and responds

"I can see now why Ben adores you; the skywalkers always have had a thing for pretty women that bite" She grins, pearly whites gleaming as she motions for Rey to sit by her.

Her legs are numb as they carry her body towards, she nearly collapses as she sits down, her bones feel too light and hollow like a birds.

"Who are you?" She asks, frustration ebbing in her tone.

Everyone in the healing tent is dead, littering the floors and beds with varying colors of blood and viscera, making a truly gruesome scene. Kylo Ren has spared no one.

Because no one has spared his Rey.

All of her life she had been treated poorly, like something to step on and use. No one treated her like she deserved, not even ren himself. AND HE WILL NOT FORGIVE HIMSELF FOR THAT. Never, he let his precious light die. It's his own fault.

The darkside hangs over him like a thick blanket, cloaking and fuzzing and knitting his emotions together until they are no longer separate. He feels no remorse for the dead, he feels... well he doesn't know how he feels! The atmosphere in the tent is composite of dust and the tangy smell of iron; Ren can taste it on his tongue, and he /emlikes/em it.

He skulks amongst the dying and the dead, a pool of water stagnates in the corner. Looking down into the dirty water he is in amazement at what he see's, the monster he sees. His irises are rimmed with a garish red that gave away to a yellow color that reminded him of sickness, of the yellow gas wells on Mustafar. Sith eyes.

But he wasn't a em sith/em, he thought harshly. Supreme leader thought their ways too... emfervent/em. He watches as the muddy, acidic color saturates and transforms his dark eyes.

He will spare nobody.

Dashing outside he takes in his surroundings, they're on ambria, a first order sympathizer planet. He gains shouts and fingers pointed at him, to which he silences with a quick snap of the neck. He sees the cantina where so many mistakes were made.

So many.

His blood is boiling at this point, all emotions from the past three days coming back down on him sevenfold. But most of all he just feels LOST. He trapezes through debris, noting the destruction. Who did this? He wonders idly.

He nearly trips as a steady undulation occurs in his sensitive mind.

No, it's not her, he has to remind himself.

It happens again, stronger this time. He grips the sides of his head, wishing it to stop. Oh! It feels as if the bond has finally severed. He drags his nails across his face; he's being torn apart inside.

It happens again.

Kylo stops the dramatics, dumbfounded with a pathetic excuse for hope. The muddled color in his eyes drains, leaving his dark browns full of longing.

"Yes, focus on his energy" Padme encourages "Anakin has told me of masters who could still maintain a force bond with their padawan even after death."

Rey is sitting down, feeling much stronger than before. Padme's presence is extremely arcadian, and she finds herself able to focus. Rey draws into herself, seeking the familiar signature that she was attuned to. Her breathing steadied as she searches for his beacon, all she could find on ambria was amalgamate of hurt and anger. Bens energy is violent and frankly, it's scaring her. It's so *angry* and apparently padme senses too as her face is drawn tightly, acerbity aging her youthful face. Kylo's force signature was a wounded beast, hulking, bleeding and hurting.

She reaches around in her mind, trying to find the tendrils that connected them both through the bond, invisible fingers touch something light and wispy. Victorious in finding it, she plunges into the bond.

-br-

She's fully awake now, back in the tub. A quick glance proves that she can see, and her surroundings are stark white, the liquid hoisting her up was the only stain of color, being pitch black and nearly gelatinous now. But there is no time to sit and wonder about colors; she snatches hold onto the tendrils and projects.

"Kylo" she poses his name a question,

"THE GIRL'S AWAKE" A gruff voice yells.

That wasn't his.

Rough hands are gripping her shoulders and dragging her upwards, ripping her away from the bond. She's kicking and screaming, this is all too much how plutt used to treat her, like she was a rag doll and her joints were only stitched, thread coalescing with fabric. The man finally manages to set her onto solid ground where she promptly falls over herself, A chorus of laughs erupts from around her.

" So the sith girl awakens" A masculine voice rumbles in front of her, she backs up lithely to look at the assailant.

He would have been handsome if not for the cruel grin spread across his lips. She spends only a second noting his features; Rey attempts to find the connecting tendrils again, but they are lost. The man drags her chin up and forces her to look at him.

"We know who you are."

Surely he's driving himself insane. Her voice was all so clear in his head, a perfect replica of his darling Rey.

He's sitting amongst the debris of their ship, a jagged piece of metal grates against his arm. She had *spoken* to him, only just a second ago. Yes, this is it, He's finally lost his last marbles HA, he has none to spare. It's been three days since Rey died and he's completely off of his rocker.

He's finally found her. After years and years searching for this girl he finds her with none other than kylo ren. "Rey" She had named herself, he tastes the name on his tongue and finds that he likes it.

Eesotoph Krennic stares at his grandfather's cape.

The reformed black sun kept itself hidden well, the falleen protecting it with their lives, yes. But now, with the girl in his clutches as both a bargaining chip and a weapon.. well, they had no viable reason to hide anymore.

He strides in his study, practically beaming at his success. Soon, so very soon, they would knock out the first order and the resistance in one fell swoop. Then he would have the Galaxy em and/em the woman in his hands

He runs a hand through his long sandy hair. Great indeed.

Now, to meet the girl.