CHAPTER 1

Rey clutched the Jedi weapon in her hand, offering it to the man who stood in front of her, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

He looked at it, then looked at her.

His piercing blue eyes searched her, but he did not move.

Even the breeze across the Ahch-To hilltop stilled, as though the steps and rock formations around them were holding their breaths.

Rey was holding her breath, too.

Stories had been told around the warming firepods on the Niimu outpost, when stars scattered across the night sky like white sand and Unkar was away. That was always when the scavengers of Jakku gathered to feast upon words and hope. Hushed tales from the older scavengers, who spoke of the Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, who helped lead the Rebellion against the Empire, and his friends, Han Solo, Chewbacca the Wookiee, Princess Leia, and then-whispered so quietly Rey would have to lean forward to hear-The Force. Rey's heart always skipped a beat when she heard those words. They said, they said, if you listened and focused and dared to believe in it enough, you could almost feel it.

Now, looking into the piercing blue eyes of the Jedi Master, Rey was certain she felt it. It was like an aura around him, tugging her almost magnetically, and Rey half-expected the light saber she to slip from her fingers and into his.

It did not. Rey continued to hold it out to him, and, when he did not respond, she brandished the weapon and foolishly filled the silence with words:

"I'm-I'm from the Resistance," Rey stammered. "We've been searching for you everywhere! You've got to come back. The First Order-they've destroyed Senate. They're taking over again! We need a Jedi to lead us. We need your help!"

The words finished at a verbal stumble, and Rey flushed, feeling stupid. This was Luke Skywalker. And who in the world was she? She was a...a nothing. A knot formed in Rey's throat.

As though the Jedi Master could discern her thoughts, he spoke at last:

"Who are you?" he said.

"Nobody," Rey muttered, suddenly wishing she were in the furthest, darkest part of the galaxy.

"Now," said the Jedi Master, frowning. "What kind of talk is that? Nobody's nobody."

Rey swallowed and turned her eyes down to the lightsaber, still clutched in her hand. Before she could say anything more, however, cheery little chirps and beeps echoed up the long staircase, and Rey who'd become acquainted with the astromech droid on the journey through hyperspace, immediately recognized it as R2-D2. The thonk-clunks that accompanied the chirps made it clear that R2-D2 was making his way up the stone stairs.

The Jedi Master's face lit up like a torch.

"Artoo?" he said.

In a moment, he had leapt past Rey with surprising dexterity and was bounding down the stairs three at the time. Rey, still clutching the lightsaber, hurried down after him.

"Artoo!" said the Jedi Master, leaping down the last bit of step to the droid who was hobbling side-to-side and beeping with excitement. The Jedi fell to his knees right there on the steps, and pressed his forehead to R2's dome. Rey couldn't tell if he was laughing or crying.

"Artoo," he said. "Artoo."

The droid gave a long, wistful meep.

Rey didn't want to interrupt this moment. She couldn't. It almost felt...sacred.

After a few long moments,, the Jedi Master rose to his feet and looked beyond the droid, the staircase, and the mossy stone peaks to where the Millenium Falcon stood, a stark silver against the green. Rey had gotten to know the ship in the past few weeks; the finicky, hand-wired system, the sensitive maneuvering it handled, the exterior pocked with burn marks from previous battles, the musty smell of Jakku sand, permeating all the passages. And the memory of Han Solo. That memory made Rey's throat tighten.

It was clear, from the way Luke Skywalker looked at the Falcon, that Rey was not the only one who felt deep emotion when she saw that ship. Luke Skywalker and Han Solo-they had been great friends. Hadn't the Han Solo even said so?

Han Solo. Kylo Ren. The searing, blistering red of a jagged lightsaber blade...

Oh, no, Rey thought, her face flushing. He doesn't know. I'll have to tell him. Wonderful...

Before Rey could even even open her mouth, however, Luke Skywalker was already down the rest of the steps and to the ship.

It was hard for Rey to sort through her emotions, watching the great Luke Skywalker-who was so noble and stately in all the stories-jubilantly embrace Chewbacca with a You old walking carpet! How are ya? Been a long time!, all the while the Wookie crying aloud in joyful Kashyyyk growls, and board the Falcon with a leap.

You old walking carpet? Was that allowed? Rey felt confused at this, and his cheerful demeanor (shouldn't a Jedi Master be solemn?), and anxious that he would ask her where Han Solo was (surely he was wondering), and even a little hurt that he hadn't taken the lightsaber or asked her anything besides Who are you? He could have asked a thousand things but Who are you?

This hadn't been the scenario Rey imagined during the hysperpace journey.

Rey, still clutching the lightsaber, followed after the Jedi Master and Chewbacca-his growls echoing in the ship-through the Falcon's passages, gunners, and cockpit. And in the crowded cockpit, with the smell of old wires and tarnished metal, Luke Skywalker froze. He said nothing, only looked at the empty pilot's seat with his bright blue eyes, which were shiny.

Rey then realized: Luke Skywalker knew Han Solo was gone.

Of course he did. Jedi Masters could sense things, couldn't they? He probably knew exactly when it had happened, too. Maybe even how it had happened. Rey quickly excused herself from the Falcon, not wanting to be a part of this moment. Thinking about Han Solo felt like someone was grabbing her inside and and twisting until she couldn't breathe. Her eyes stung, and she was dangerously close to crying.

Rey sat on the stony steps, swallowing. Well. She might be a nobody from nowhere, but she wouldn't let the legendary Jedi Master see her weakness. She quickly wiped her eyes, and consciously did not think of Han Solo for a long time.

Rey didn't think of Han Solo long enough to compose herself, and she was certain her eyes weren't red by the time Luke Skywalker-in the light of the binary sunset-exited the Falcon.

"Hey," he said. "You all right?"

"Of course," said Rey, quickly standing and silently cursing herself for rubbing her eyes too hard.

But the Jedi Master only nodded, seeming to take her at her word, and looked out into the sunset. Rey followed his gaze, taken by the beauty of it. The sunlight glinted off the billowing clouds-something Rey had never seen before-trimming them with brilliant gold. Purples and reds painted the sky in soft streaks. Above it, in the darkening sky, five or six-no, seven-moons, all at different phases, cast a soft glow. Each one was a different size and pastel. One even had stripes. The largest was a silver crescent that arched over them.

Rey, who had been used to Jakku's two-and rather small-moons, could have marveled at this for hours. The Jedi Master was smiling at her.

"Are you hungry?" he said.

Rey blinked. Was he inviting her to actually eat food with him. With a Jedi Master? She nodded.

"Great," said the Jedi Master, who motioned them to follow him up the steps. "Me too. Oh-" He stopped abruptly, and nodded to the Falcon. "You'll probably want to move that to higher ground first."