"Let me go! Let me go! He needs me!" She screamed, fighting the hands holding her back. "I can save him!"

"Rey, it's too late! We have to go!" Finn yelled into her ear as he pulled her from the cockpit, his new armour hard and unrelenting against her back.

Chewie let out an angry and mournful growl, cursing the First Order as they retreated from the battlefield. They had a responsibility to the civilians in the main hold of the ship – all of this meant nothing to her in that moment.

As she was finally pulled from the cockpit window, she watched as his body fell from the platform. She felt each and every blaster bolt as it impacted him, rocking her body this way and that. With one final, pained moan, she went limp in Finn's arms.

Had it really been a week since he died? She had grown closer to Shan in the time since Starkiller than anyone she had ever met. He had been her mentor, her friend and her confidant. When she was struggling with a particular part of her training, he'd be there to offer her reassurances.

She missed his dry humour and sarcastic wit. She missed the intimate connection the two of them had with one another through their bond, but most of all – she missed him.

He hadn't been a long-lost Jedi to her. Not the fabled Hero of Tython. He had simply been Nasra Shan, a survivor of countless wars and battles – a man who had his flaws and was human.

She lay there, unmoving for the better part of a week. Sure, she'd done her duties and made sure the First Order was being pushed off-world, but she hadn't been there. Once word had come in that the First Order Destroyer had been crippled by the Mandalorian Fleet and Poe's fighters, Mandalore had ordered its capture. She had fought through the hordes of Stormtroopers with a reckless abandon, imagining each of them had been the ones to deal the final blows to her master – to her friend.

"The Force will always be with you." A voice whispered, just on the edge of hearing. She sat up, instantly – the hilt in her hand gripped tightly. The room on the Falcon was sealed, and the crawlspaces were far too small for anyone but the smallest of species to clamber through.

"Who's there?" She asked quietly, her bloodshot eyes sweeping the dimly lit room with the same intensity they'd held for the last week.

"Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force. Mourn them, do not. Miss them do not." A second, older voice whispered.

The snap-hiss of the cyan blade in her hand echoed throughout the room, illuminating the darkest parts. All around were strewn pieces of clothing and mechanical parts – a far cry from the state it had been in when she'd stumbled in here.

"Rey," A wizened voice called. She turned slowly, lightsaber still at the ready. "He will always be with you." A shimmering blue figure said, his short white hair and beard almost swallowed by the tan and brown robes he appeared in. After her experience at the Nexus on Odessen, he didn't startle her as he surely would have done otherwise.

"Who are you?" She demanded, levelling the blade at the ghost's throat – for all the good it would have done her.

"My name, is Obi-Wan Kenobi." The old man smiled serenely, moving to take a seat on the bed she'd been curled up on.

"What do you want? I'm in no mood to talk." She snapped, de-activating the blade and running the back of her hand across her nose as she sniffled. What a sight she must have looked.

"Did you know, I trained Darth Vader as a Jedi?" Obi-Wan asked, patting the seat next to him. She took it begrudgingly as she nodded, recalling Luke fondly telling her of his own masters, Obi-Wan and Yoda. "When my apprentice, Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader, the good man he was, was destroyed – for a time. It felt as if the young boy I had trained, had died."

"How did you cope?" She asked after a moment of silence. Feeling the tears softly trickle down her cheeks.

"I resolved myself to watch over his son. I promised myself I would do better – for Anakin." He sighed, running a thumb through his beard, not entirely unlike Shan would do. There it was; the comparison that reduced her to tears once more.

As the sobs wracked her body, she felt herself curling into a ball as she fisted a handful of the robe she'd been holding close, inhaling the lingering scent as much as she could. How would she continue? A gentle weight fell on her shoulder, the light touch soothingly stroking her shoulder.

"He will always be with you."

She remained there for a time, tears slowly trickling into one of Nasra's cloaks. As her eyes tiredly roamed the room she was in, she took in all the belongings of the man who had been staying in it. There hadn't been much, what with him only being a temporary crew member, but there was enough through the Force that lingered, even after his death.

She could see the spot he would use to meditate in, the area he'd designated his own private workshop where he would tinker with his lightsabers. As Master Luke rebuilt the Order, she'd make sure that Shan's last remaining saber would be held in a place of honour for the future.

Eventually, her eyes slowly drifted closed, her breathing deep and even as she allowed the sleep she'd been sorely lacking for the last week finally claimed her.

"I think it's a boy," A woman's voice said, the joy in her voice evident. As she turned to look at the scene before her, she could see a pair of figures sitting in a lounge of some sort, arms wrapped around one-another. As she attempted to peer closer, however, she couldn't make out any features – she couldn't even make out the voices, so distorted and warped as they were.

"I'll be happy regardless – though I hope it's a little girl." The male replied, pulling the woman in tighter as they lay back on the couch.

"Will they be trained? Surely you've already felt them." The woman asked eventually, a hand gently stroking back and forth over her enlarged stomach. In the background, a pair of Astromechs, one a typical domed, cylindrical model from the silhouette of it, and the other a much more squat-headed model quietly bickered back and forth, causing the couple to laugh.

"I think they're fighting over which of them would become their droid companion." The male laughed.

"Mommy, mommy! Theron's being a nerf again!" A young girl cried, charging into the room – a small stuffed toy held in a vice-like grip. The young girl launched herself onto the couch and curled up into the woman's side.

"Am not!" An indignant cry replied as a young boy came racing after his sister, she assumed this was Theron. "Papa, tell Satele that I'm not!" Similarly, the young boy clambered onto the couch and latched onto his father.

"Alright kids, what happened?" The father finally sighed as he stood, scooping the two children into his arms and hoisting them over each shoulder – the squabbling forgotten as they dissolved into a fit of childish giggles. She smiled to herself, watching the scene quietly as she stood to the side.

Her eyes opened slowly, a calmness about her that hadn't been there in what felt like an age. No, not an age – a week. She knew very well why she had felt so utterly torn apart. With a groan, she hoisted herself up into a sitting position in the bunk and thought on the previous night's events.

She had been visited by Obi-Wan, that was certain enough. Tired and grief stricken as she was, she could still sense the powerful presence well enough. Silently, she pushed herself off the borrowed bunk and padded quietly to the door.

With a single jab of her finger, the door slid open with the clunking of wall mechanisms that were so specific to the Falcon. The ship was empty, the ship having been docked back at the palace shortly after rescuing the civilians, though as she moved to her own bunk room, she felt the approach of Mandalore and Poe from across the expansive hangar.

While she'd taken care of her personal hygiene each day, she hadn't made that much of an effort and mostly just sat down in the sonic shower for a time before going through her washing routine on auto-pilot. Her clothes had been her training and sparring clothes for the most part – comfortable enough, but not the best for receiving company. With a tired groan, she divested herself of her robes and jumped into the secondary sonic shower the Falcon had, which incidentally was a part of her room. She assumed Solo had it installed once he began transporting Leia throughout the years of the Rebellion.

The shower was short and to the point, and after a minute, she was out and pulling on her robes that Shan had bought for her back on Naboo. At the time, she hadn't thought too much on the robes themselves, or the style, but a conversation a month before the mission wiggled its way back into her mind. Both Shan and Skywalker were discussing the differences between the apparel of the Jedi in both ancient and recent history – though Shan always became uncomfortable whenever it was referred to as ancient.

According to Shan, the clothing of a Jedi usually reflected their personality during his time period. While some considerations were made for armour and combat situations, the clothing of a Jedi was often a lot more personalised than the tan and brown tunics that the later Jedi seemed to adopt as a pseudo-uniform.

As it turned out, her robes were much more in-line with the Jedi of old, rather than the Jedi of recent years. Though, she'd be the first to admit that the slight skin she showed of her hips up to the bottom of her ribs on either side of her tunic seemed to attract more than a few appreciative glances – much to her annoyance.

As she finished adjusting the sash just under her bust, the knock from the other side of the door announced both Mira and Poe's presence. With a flick of her fingers, the door slid open and a sombre pair of faces greeted her.

"Rey." Poe said, his eyes sad as he stepped through the door.

"Hey, Poe." She replied, trying to smile as she called her saberstaff to her hand and clipped it to her combat belt around her waist.

"We just came to see how you were doing. Finn said you haven't seen anyone since-" The pilot began, his own eyes slightly bloodshot and the skin around them dark. It appeared Nasra's death had been a blow to more than just her.

"Don't." She said, her hand stopping any further words. "Please, just… don't." A silent nod from the pilot answered her. "What's the news on the First Order? Are they still holed up?" Another nod. "Alright, where do you need me?"

The world was blurred and muffled, as if everything was much further away than it was in reality. With a groan, she pushed herself off the Durasteel platform she'd landed on and winced as she put pressure on her left arm.

A pair of miniature suns appeared briefly in the air above her as she looked towards the top of the Sundari dome, briefly followed by two large blurs that raced past them. All too soon the world snapped back into focus.

"Where the kriff did those TIE's come from?!" Dameron shouted to her left. Within moments, he was helping her to her feet and leading her to the corner of a nearby building.

"It seems they must have hidden them somewhere, sir!" A Mandalorian replied, twisting out of cover to return a volley of bolts.

"Sir, Boma Squad is still pinned down on the far side of the street. They've been out-flanked!" Another Mandalorian announced, coming to a knee by the side of them. "With all of this heavy fire, we can't evac them!"

Rey looked over to Poe, her chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He looked torn between aiding Finn and falling back to a more defensible position. Her eyes flickered to all the other warriors around her. There were a small number that had fallen to various wounds – either from blasters, explosives or the brief strafing run of the TIE's a few moments ago. One small comfort was that there were far more First Order corpses than their own.

This was the last stronghold of the Order on the planet – a small industrial sector of Sundari. It hadn't been home to much, but the Order had launched a number of raids from this position as the pockets of resistance had slowly been routed. It seemed they were content to make a final stand and take as many Mandalorians as they could.

As an explosion rocked the building on the far side of the street – sending small chunks of debris in every direction, she pushed up off the floor where she had been kneeling. "Poe, cover me!" She yelled, the dual snap-hiss of her blades somehow breaking through the chaos of the battle.

"Rey, what are you-" Poe began, though as she stepped into the street, her staff spinning in an impossibly fast blur, she could hear him yell, "Ah, damnit! Everyone, covering fire!"

Immediately, the number of bolts flying towards the First Order troopers increased, forcing the bucketheads into cover as she advanced. With both blades batting bolts back to her attackers, and the Stormtroopers shooting at her less and less, she saw an opening to advance on their foes. The distance between the two sets of soldiers was only a few metres in reality, but throughout the firefight had felt like so many miles. Shan had once told her of his experiences fighting on Corellia and other large city planets. With a frown, she clamped down on those thoughts. She didn't need to be distracted by her grief right now.

Pushing off from the floor below her, she spun lazily through the air before landing in a crouch behind the Stormtroopers that had been firing on her. In the split second that she remained crouched, her orange blades humming in a guarded position behind her back, she dove headfirst into the Force. She swam among its many currents, gathering as much of the energy into herself as she possibly could. It filled her with its euphoric energy, and when she felt almost ready to burst, she pushed it through the fingertips of her right hand and into the Duracrete below in every direction. As her eyes opened, a large wave of concussive energy tore up the Duracrete around her and sent Stormtroopers flying in every direction with enough force to liquify their internal organs.

Immediately, she was back on her feet, her blades deflecting a short three-burst of bolts that had been aimed at her legs. Sprinting forward, she dove into the nearby First Order soldiers and began her attack. With each swipe of her orange blades, a trooper fell. Some were fatal injuries – a swipe across the chest plate of a trooper, or a quick slice at their unprotected necks. Others were less severe, merely severing limbs, the wounds immediately cauterised from the immense heat of the blades.

It wasn't long until the First Order was routed from their last hold-out. The Mandalorians charged through the breach she had created, forcing the First Order into submission where they could, and efficiently killing those that refused.

"Rey!" Finn shouted over the ever-reducing noise of battle as he jogged over to her, his squad following behind him. With the battle now further into the industrial complex, they were out of any immediate danger. Her eyes quickly swept over his armoured form – there were a few blackened areas of his armour that showed the tell-tale signs of a blast impact, but it appeared his new armour could take the hits. He looked no worse for wear, thankfully. She de-activated her staff.

"Finn, I'm glad you're okay." She replied. She tried to give him a convincing smile, but she knew it fell flat.

"Rey, what are you doing here?!" He asked, his rifle still cradled in his arms.

"What are you talking about?" She asked, clipping her hilt onto her belt.

"Rey, you've been out of it for a week, and then you take part in a battle? I appreciate the help back there but your head can't be in the right place right now."

"You'd be dead if I hadn't been here. I can't-" She stopped herself, her throat suddenly tight with emotion. "I can't lose anyone else."

"You didn't lose him. It wasn't your fault. There was nothing we could have done." Finn said softly, sliding his rifle over his right shoulder and onto a magnetic plate on his back.

"He's right, Jedi. He bought us time to evac the civilians. He went out like a true warrior." One of Finn's men added, the man placing a gauntleted fist over his chest plate.

"And is that supposed to comfort me? I felt everything Finn. I just-" She sighed, sitting down heavily against a crate and burying her face in her hands. "I feel like a part of me is missing." She moaned, wiping away the single tear that threatened to trickle down her cheek.

"Look, I don't know what it's like for you Jedi, but I know he'd hate to see you like this." Finn said, clasping his hand on her shoulder as he knelt in front of her. "Come on, I'll get you back to-"

"Finn, Rey! You'd better come and see this!" Poe yelled as he jogged over to them. He appeared out of breath, his eyes wild with a grin that she hadn't seen in over a week. "You're not gonna believe it!"

"What is it?" Finn asked, standing up just before she did.

"No way, you've got to see it." He replied, grabbing both hers and Finn's arms as he started dragging them behind him.

He led them past a few pockmarked buildings, their facades covered in a dozen or more small craters from Mandalorian and First Order weapons. The bodies weren't as many here, and it appeared more and more troopers were surrendering, or were being forced to submit. She supposed Mira would want as many prisoners to interrogate as possible – though as she reached out into the Force, it felt as if many were at their breaking points already from the constant fighting. While the battle of Sundari wasn't costly for the Mandalorians, the First Order's troops had been decimated in the conflict.

As they walked past one of the buildings, she caught a glimpse of a trooper having their helmet torn off, to reveal a young woman, no older than herself covered in Bacta strips. Her eyes were sunken from exhaustion, and her eyes resigned to the fate she expected. Were all of the troopers like this one? It was easy to disassociate from them when they were in their armour, but just how many young men and women were under that armour?

Poe suddenly came to a stop outside a rusted looking door that had been forced open partially. "Right, just in here." He said, gesturing for them to step through first.

Inside was dark and dingy. It appeared to have once been a small office building – likely a foreman's building for whatever all the assembly lines in the other buildings they'd past had been building. The room they entered had half a dozen Mandalorian's milling about, talking excitedly to one another as they held their weapons trained on a pair of kneeling Stormtroopers.

The troopers had their helmets removed and their hands clasped behind their heads as they stared at the stained floor.

"What's this all about, Poe?" Finn asked to her left.

"I helped these boys after Rey broke through their line. I followed them back here and we breached this building. Turns out, it was their med-centre. You, up and follow me." He replied, kicking one of the troopers in the knee and gesturing for him to stand with a quick wave of his blaster.

The trooper stood without a sound, though his eyes were roaming over everyone in the room – her in particular.

"Show them." Poe said, gesturing to the single locked door on the far wall. The trooper began moving immediately, and after half a dozen steps, began punching in the code for the door.

"Stars, what's that smell?" Rey muttered, covering her nose with her hand in a futile attempt to stop the assault on her nostrils. As she stepped through the doorway after the trooper, she discovered her answer.

There, lying on a make-shift cot alongside a dozen or more other beings, was Nasra.

His robes were tattered and torn. His helmet still covered his head and for all intents and purposes, he appeared to be resting – but she knew the truth. She spun and looked at Poe, her jaw somewhere past her feet. She blinked twice before she darted over to her fallen master, dropping to her knees as she ran her right palm over the black and red faceplate.

"Good luck with that." The trooper said, his voice deep. "Any time I tried to get close, I got zapped."

"What do you mean? How did you find him? What were you doing with him?" She demanded; her eyes fixated on the broken body before her. Idly, she gently pushed the hood of his tunic back and away from his helmet.

"Answer her." Finn ordered after the trooper was quiet for a moment too long.

"We found him a few days ago, lying in some debris a few blocks away. There were a few corpses of scavengers and troopers around him. Looked like they'd been electrocuted when I took a look at them. Took us a while, but we worked out how to transport him here after a few hours. I was going to see what I could do, but every time I got close, I got zapped and thrown into that wall." He said, gesturing to a wall with a sizeable dent in it.

"That's impossible, he's dead." Finn replied. She wasn't listening anymore. The world became muted around her as she reached out with the Force. He was dead, wasn't he? She'd seen it – she'd felt it. The memory of feeling each and every blast bolt was still raw in her mind. She couldn't have imagined the pain he had been in towards the end, and yet – he'd felt so calm, at peace. Happy, even.

With gentle, shaking fingers, she reached out with both hands and slowly removed the helmet. The helmet looked no worse for wear, but after it came free of the owner, she couldn't helmet the gasp that trickled past her lips.

His pale skin was covered in dozens of small scrapes and bruises, and three large trails of dried, crusted and flaky blood covered his lower face and matted his beard, but it was still him. She had no idea what she'd been expecting, but the reality of seeing her fallen master was almost too much.

She threw her arms around his shoulders, feeling the coldness of his cheek against her own as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. Absently, her fingers gently ran through his matted hair. She wept.

"Please don't go." She whispered, her shoulders shaking as the sobs struck her body. "Don't leave me. Please."

"Rey." She heard Poe's voice distantly, as if from a great distance. She ignored him as the tears kept falling from her cheeks.

"Please, don't leave me." She repeated, begging over and over again. She didn't know how long she had been begging for when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Rey, you need to stop this." Poe whispered slowly, drawing her back. Stop what? She wasn't doing anything!

Turning her head slowly, she looked over her shoulder. Immediately, she saw what Poe was talking about. All around them, anything that wasn't bolted to the floor was levitating and gently spinning. Finn, the troopers and the Mandalorian's from outside the room were peering at her cautiously. A brief flash of light illuminated the room in a cold blue.

Her head shot to the source of the light, but it was already gone. A few moments later, there was another, and this time she caught a glimpse of it. A single tendril of electricity was skittering over a crate, leaping this way and that. A few moments later, it was joined by another, and another. In no time at all, each and every object in the air had a number of tendrils crawling along its surface.

"Rey, you need to calm down." Poe said again, his voice wary as his eyes darted from object to object.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she finally managed, "It's not me."

"If it's not you, who could it b-" Finn began, before his head snapped to the body of Shan on the cot.

"You don't think?" Dameron asked, his eyes wide.

She dropped to her knees at the side of the cot again, this time grasping her masters left hand. Instantly, the tendrils of electricity began running along both their arms, and she couldn't help but grin at everyone else in the room.

"He's alive!"