Tatooine was an unpleasant desert planet, nearly as bad as Jakku. Ben had never understood why people chose to stay in places like this. It was so hot the sweat evaporated off of his skin as soon as it formed. It was bad enough to have to work hard to find food. Working for water was insult upon injury.

Ben knew that Luke Skywalker came from humble beginnings, but he had not expected this level of humble. His uncle had talked about his childhood on Tatooine on several occasions, and was never negative about it. It was so different from his mother's childhood on Alderaan. The Force had brought them together in the end, regardless of their separate lives as children.

Perhaps the Force brought him to this planet. His grandfather had spent time as a slave on Tatooine before the Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had found him. Anakin had no love for the place, and as far as Ben knew, Darth Vader had never returned.

And for some reason, Rey had felt compelled to bring both Luke and Leia's lightsabers back here and bury them in the sand. Ben couldn't fathom doing such a thing. But the Jedi had always tended toward honoring objects as relics. It was strange to think of anything belonging to his mother and uncle being elevated to such a position of prestige.

"I think I found them," called Rey.

She'd been searching for a while. She was hot, frustrated, and still in pain. Ben had been a lot more freaked out that he was experiencing her menstrual woes than he had shared with her. It didn't seem fair to heap his squeamishness onto her when she was already suffering. There had been women in the First Order, but it had never once occurred to him to consider what they went through as a matter of course due to their sex.

He joined her, and she placed her hands on the sand and closed her eyes. It churned beneath her fingers, and after a few moments, two lightsabers filtered up out of the ground. She handed them both to him. As accursed hot as it was, he still needed to test them. He was giddy with excitement.

"Spar with me?"

He handed one back to her at random. Both blades extended with a satisfying hiss, and she immediately dropped into an offensive stance. The last time they fought, they had been surrounded by a churning ocean on Kef Bir. The slippery metal had presented an extra challenge. Here, sand shifted beneath him as he moved, proving just as unstable as the wet metal had been. And of course, she had been trying to kill him then.

It had been a little over a week since he'd faced her on Kef Bir, but his body felt the gap of months as if it had actually been dead. Fighting the Knight on Coruscant hadn't been much trouble. Rey was clever and quick, and had obviously retained her training regimen in their time apart. After a few minutes, she called a pause and swapped him blades. He had used Luke's during the first round. Leia's felt different. After a few more minutes where neither could gain the upper hand, he called a stop.

They turned to find the Mandalorian and the kid watching them. Yoda wielded his darksaber, swinging it this way and that in mock battle. They all retracted their blades at the same time.

"That was awesome!" said Yoda. He ran to join them. "When will I be able to do that?"

"You'll need to grow a bit more," said Rey. "But if you are anything like Master Yoda, you will be an excellent blade master."

"Rey Skywalker," said a voice behind them.

Ben turned to find an old woman approaching. She led a tall, reined creature.

"Hello, grandmother," said Rey.

"You came back," said the old woman. "Will you stay?"

"No," said Rey.

"Who are you?" said the woman, pointing at Ben.

"Ben," he said.

"Ben who?"

"Ben Skywalker," he said.

Rey looked up at him, eyes wide. He shrugged. "I don't know. It feels right."

"It does," she said.

All of his adult life he had sought to honor and emulate his grandfather. But Ben had focused on the part of the man's life when he was Darth Vader. Powerful, brutal, brilliant. In this place, he was reminded of the man before he fell to the Sith. A man with a gift who struggled and excelled despite his humble beginnings.

"Are you siblings?" said the old woman.

Nosy, Ben thought, but didn't say it out loud.

"No, grandmother," said Rey. She was trying not to laugh. "We'll leave you in peace now."

The old woman nodded, and continued on her way.

"The galaxy has had enough of multiple, powerful family lines," said Ben. "Let's keep it simple. And, my dear, I am more of a Skywalker than you."

"True."

"I'm glad you didn't keep Palpatine. I would not have taken it. I don't mind Solo, but it reminds me of my patricide. Not that I'm likely to forget it, ever, but it might help to not be reminded every time I say my name."

The look of sorrow on Rey's face made his throat tighten. Of all the sins he had committed, killing Han was the one that haunted him most. He didn't think he would ever forgive himself. And he didn't have enough courage to ask Rey if she had forgiven him.

"Let's get this over with," said the Mandalorian, as they boarded the Razor Crest. "Can you pilot?"

Rey nudged him, and he looked at her. He'd allowed his miserable thoughts to block everything else out. "He was asking you."

Ben wished he could see the man's face. "I would be honored to pilot your ship."

Ben didn't know what he had done to earn such trust, but he understood the significance of the gesture. Most pilots didn't allow anyone to touch their ship's controls.