I don't know anything about the droid.I'm a scavenger and I found it in the desert.

He has just finished up a routine mission on an ordinary day when he discovers her. Kylo Ren arrives back to the Finalizer to sense a Force imprint so enormous that it blinds his mind's eye even before he exits his command shuttle. She is like a beacon in the Force. So much beautiful, beguiling Light. Kylo is caught off guard. Shocked even. Definitely intrigued. For it is a rare thing to encounter another Force-user, let alone one with this magnitude of power.

He stands there, still and concentrating amid the surrounding bustle of his flagship's hangar bay. Yes, somewhere on his ship is a woman filled with the Force.

I'm not part of the Resistance. I don't care about politics. I don't even vote.

It takes but a moment of concentration before he hears her unguarded thoughts. This is Kylo Ren's natural talent in the Force: the ability to permeate minds. Non-Force users cannot hide their thoughts from him. And only those Force-users who intentionally erect layers of mental barriers can resist him. But this woman has no barriers. She must be untrained then.

No, I don't belong to the Church of the Force. Their prophet Luke Skywalker is a myth. He never existed and he's not coming back.

Her thoughts are frantic and interspersed with screams in the Force. Someone is hurting her. She is loud, vehement and terrified as she is tortured for answers she does not know. And now, Kylo Ren is even further intrigued. Wondering who this woman is, how she got picked up by the First Order, and what she is suspected of doing. From what he's overheard, she is mixed up with that mess on Jakku. And that makes him very suspicious. Because random untrained Force-users don't just find renegade droids in the desert carrying maps to Luke Skywalker without a reason.

No, I don't know anyone named Poe Dameron. I told you—I'm not part of the Resistance.

He stalks through his flagship in a hurry for the detention center. It's a place he knows well. As he travels down crowded corridors the crew shrinks from his path. But Kylo doesn't notice. He is focused solely on her. Her Light keeps beckoning him closer, teasing him with her siren's call, even as her pain increases. He's almost to the detention center when in the Force he hears her tearful plea for mercy. It is pitiful, even to a Sith who has stood unmoved listening to many beg for their life.

Then, she goes quiet.

He's too late, he fears, and she is dead.

Kylo bursts into the cell to find an unconscious young woman. She's barely more than a girl, really. And she looks like a filthy vagabond dressed in sandy rags. She is hurt, of course. Broken arms, smashed and swollen face, black eyes, a busted lip, and visible bruises everywhere. It is a wretched sight. He takes it all in, transfixed by the juxtaposition of all this ugly suffering against the backdrop of her beautiful Light.

Kylo Ren has seen the carnage of war and he's caused quite a bit of it himself. Bystanders and innocents get caught up in the crossfire all the time. It is an unavoidable truth. But this is different somehow. This secretly powerful girl had not been the enemy. She might even have been an ally. But she is the enemy now, he knows. These old-school questioning tactics are so uncivilized.

"We're getting nowhere, Sir. This girl is tough. We can't even make her scream."

Yes, they had, Kylo thinks to himself. She had screamed for help in ways these lesser mortals could not comprehend. And her pain and those screams had been a waste. This interrogation is pointless because the girl has nothing to tell them. The whole raid on Jakku had been bungled from the beginning, he thinks with a scowl behind his mask. The droid had destroyed the map as soon as it had been taken by the First Order, no doubt following prearranged orders. And so the First Order is worse off than before the raid because now there is no map to be found. He had destroyed a village, destroyed pompous old Lor San Tekka, and now this girl too. And he is farther than ever from finding Luke Skywalker. Kylo Ren is a Sith, so his ends justify his means. But his violence always has a purpose. And, in retrospect, this violence seems both wasteful and counterproductive.

The only thing of value he has to show for it is this girl with her Light.

Kylo steps closer now to inspect her. She has hair the color his mother's hair used to be before time streaked it with grey. It's much like the color of his grandmother's hair in the portrait Vader kept in his castle. The girl's hair is matted with blood in places and tied back in tight knots. He wonders what it looks like worn loose. The girl's face is a mess so it is difficult to appraise. But underneath it all, he suspects that she is pretty. Maybe even beautiful. Like her Light.

Kylo raises a gloved hand to her temple. In her unconscious state, it is easy to penetrate her memories. And what he sees is sobering. He shouldn't be surprised given this girl is a scavenger from the graveyard world of Jakku in the Western Outer Rim slum of the galaxy. But still, she makes an impression. For hers is a life of deprivation and hardship. A daily struggle for portions and hydration tablets. A life of loneliness without a satisfactory explanation. For far too much of this girl's past is a mystery even to herself.

He sees that she is determined and, at times, fierce. But mostly, he sees that she is soft. Given to gestures of charity that she can ill afford and moved to tears at the sight of suffering far less onerous than her own. It was typical of her to take pity on the renegade Resistance droid, he sees. That's the sort of thing this girl does. And this time, it had been an unfortunate mistake.

And maybe these random acts of kindness are the true way in which this girl is most fierce. For stubbornly she clings to hope. Mostly, it's the hope of a family. To a vague idea that one day someone will walk into her life and change it for the better. That she will be valued by someone, that she will matter to someone, other than herself.

He should kill her. Right here, right now. This girl has too much latent potential to live. If he releases her and somehow she finds her way to Luke Skywalker, she might become an enemy. And a formidable one at that. This girl has already found the droid in the desert with the map, so perhaps this is the Force trying to find a way to connect her to a teacher. Kylo has been a student of the Force long enough to know that there are no coincidences in life and there is no such thing as luck.

He stares at her long and hard, remembering her plea for mercy that only he could hear. In her most desperate hour, the Light had cried out in the Force to Darkness. That unexpected connection seems extraordinary to him. And so, he makes a decision. Kylo Ren is a calculating Sith, so he is rarely impulsive on things that matter. But today, he is weak for the Light and impulsive for this mysterious girl filled with the Force. It's no great risk, for she is no one. No one will care what he does with this girl. And no one will know. He's Kylo Ren and he can take whatever he wants. In all the galaxy, he only answers to one man.

"Sir?" The interrogator by his side is looking at him expectantly. "Did you discover anything?"

Kylo ignores the question. Instead, he growls his orders. "Take her to the medibay, put her in a bacta tank, and heal her completely. NOW!"

"But, Sir-"

"This interrogation is over."

She is in Hell. It's an old-fashioned fire and brimstone version of Hell with flames and the smell of sulfur. Here is a place where sinners pay dearly for their crimes and emerge forever changed. Where men are mutilated and burned alive as they writhe in agony and scream out their hate. Where the righteous look on resigned and grim before they turn and walk away. You were my brother, but now you are your own victim.

This is a place where people are forever lost and left to suffer and die alone.Only sometimes they don't die. They live on in torment with a broken body and a broken soul.They become a creature in a mask. More machine now than man.And this might just be the worst fate of all. Because when hate is all you have left, it is very hard to let go of it.

The nightmare is disturbing and strange. Rey is repulsed. She comes awake suddenly and sits up to find that she is actually in Hell. It had not been a dream. Or maybe, she thinks, she is not yet awake.

Rey lays on a bed in a dark unfamiliar room that glows eerie red with light from a wall of windows. The view looks out on a sea of lava. It is all shades of molten red and yellow, rushing past in a dizzying torrent. Fascinated, Rey climbs to her feet and approaches the windows. Even with the super thick transparasteel, Rey can still feel some of the intense heat. It reminds her of the desert and Rey leans forward to press her palms against the glass to experience the warmth. It's comforting because Rey is very disoriented. And probably still asleep and lost in her dream.

She's not wearing her desert togs, Rey realizes as she looks down at the institutional looking medical gown she now wears. She hugs the voluminous gown close as she realizes with shock that she has nothing on underneath. She's barefoot and her hair is loose. Rey runs a hand through it and feels that it is clean. The gesture causes her hand to brush her cheek and Rey touches a bandage.

And now, it all comes rushing back to her. The stormtroopers surrounding her AT-AT in the wee hours, no doubt tipped off by an angry Teedo who had probably wanted the First Order's bounty on the droid. The troopers taking the droid and taking her. The questions, so many questions for which Rey has no answers. They suspect that she is Resistance, that she is hiding something. And so they try to beat the answers out of her.

But Rey knows nothing about a map, she's never heard of anyone named Poe Dameron, and she's not stupid enough to believe that Luke Skywalker is actually real. She can't convince them that she is just a scavenger. And as her questioners grow increasingly frustrated, their methods of persuasion become more brutal. Still, Rey remains stoic through it all. She's taken more than her fair share of punches through the years. But over time, it gets hard to maintain her outward calm. Rey has never been more scared in her life. So she screams but only in her mind. She won't give her jailers the satisfaction of hearing her pain.

Stop! I don't know anything about a map. I'm not part of the Resistance.

Owww! That hurts. That really, really hurts.

I will survive. I am Rey of the Desert and I will survive.I will survive until I die.

I don't know anything about Luke Skywalker. I don't belong to that hokey religion.

Oh, Gods, what is that? Owwww! I think you broke my arm! No! Not again—please! I can't scavenge with two broken arms. I'll starve if I can't work. Have mercy please!

And that's the last thing Rey remembers before waking here.

There's a mirror on the wall and Rey stumbles over to it. She peels back the bandage on her cheek. It's a bacta bandage-expensive stuff to use on a prisoner. Beneath it, her cheek and jaw look normal. Rey pulls at another bandage on her forehead and one on her shoulder and finds the same. There are fading bruises on both her forearms, barely visible in the dim light. But nothing hurts. Nothing is broken.

Someone has healed her.

Rey is more confused than ever now. She turns back to the mirror for another look when she sees movement reflected there. It's a man. He steps from the darkened recesses across the room.

Rey whirls. Instantly, she is on alert. She casts her eyes around for something to use as a weapon but the bedroom is sleek and sparsely furnished. She finds nothing. And she sees that the stranger is standing directly in front of the room's only door. Neither fight nor flight is a good option now.

"Don't be afraid," the man says quietly. The dim, reddish light reflects on his pale skin, giving him an otherworldly appearance. Her first impression is that he is tall. Many inches taller than she is. "I won't hurt you."

"Where am I?" Rey demands. "Is this the F-First Order?"

"No. This is my home. On the planet Mustafar." The man nods encouragingly at her. Rey sees that he is young. He has flowing dark hair and sharp cheekbones. He's dressed casually wearing a loose V-neck black tunic and slacks tucked into boots. "You are safe."

She is wary. "Who are you?"

"My name is Ben."

"Ben?" she squints and echoes stupidly.

"Yes. Ben Solo."