Star destroyers. Even as she watched, another one dropped out of hyperspace and into view in the sky above them. Three of them in total. They began to lower further into the atmosphere, slowly, slowly. Rey could feel the Watchers behind her.

Rey had spent the night inside the temple, and though she had not slept, the brightness of morning had come quickly. Now the star destroyers seemed to block it out, like an eclipse.

On the edge of the temple grounds, just before the earth began to slope down to the forest, stood Moriah, watching the darkening sky. She had removed the silvery jacket and wore only a short, dark tunic over the loose trousers; her long hair was tied up and out of her face.

Suddenly the fear Rey had been pushing down rose up into her throat and choked her.

Amidst the chaos, Ben was still. His gaze was trained on Rey, as if there were no other sight nor sound on Dvorah. She closed the few steps between them, until she was close enough to see the curves of the scar on his cheek.

"When I was a boy, my mother was a senator," he said. He was looking straight into her; she could feel his words even as he spoke them aloud. "She was a Populist. Her goal was to restore power to the individual worlds and systems of the galaxy. To let them rule themselves, without compulsion."

His eyes lifted to the sky above them, now dominated and darkened by the First Order ships hanging there. Their thunderous hum all but drowned out his words, but to her they were as clear as her own heartbeat.

"Empires, Republics; let them all die. Tear them down."

He gestured upwards with his right hand, sweeping across the sky, as a small troop of TIE Fighters screamed into sight. He closed it into a fist and each one crumpled like a drinking vessel and crashed to the ground.

"Crush the systems that work to impose their will." He once again met her eyes, his natural intensity and sharpness driving into her. "No more manipulation. No more Snokes."

"Peace," she whispered.

"Maybe. But hope."

She loved him then; she knew it.

Her heart rose in her chest. This was the Ben Solo she knew, the Ben she had stayed up so late so many nights to be with. The Ben she had shipped herself to the Supremacy to save. The Ben she'd looked up at adoringly, wonderingly, when he'd killed his master to stop her suffering. The feeling pressing out of her was one she had rarely experienced before: pride. She was proud of him. Words were not necessary between them. Ben heard her. He turned back to look at the sky, at the ships hanging too low above the surface like stormclouds.

"Balance," she said and she stood beside him. Together they gazed up at the darkening sky; a new barrage of TIE Fighters dropped down from the cruiser, like ants pouring out of their hill to face an intruder.

The look on his face was one of resolve. He raised his chin defiantly, his soft black hair moving in the slight breeze. His eyes steady and fixed on the fighters screaming down toward them. He'd heard her, every word, both spoken and silent. Emotion, his old enemy, choked him, and he was glad.

She was close enough to him that he could feel the warmth of her body in the cooling air. Being near her, he felt … better. More calm. More complete. This was enough, he thought; enough for now. If they survived what was coming, there would be time for something more. If they didn't, then it was enough that she stood beside him then, his equal. His friend.

They both knew what they had to do.