Wait, shouldn't I be working on the bazillion projects that are already in the works instead of starting a new Reyux idea trying to retcon what happened in TROS?

Yeah, well... here we are. I had an idea and it wouldn't go away until I fleshed it out. And then it REALLY wouldn't go away until I outlined and started writing it. You think what happened in the movie would get me to stop being adamantly anti-Reylo and get me to stop shipping Reyux? Nah, fam, if anything, after what happened, I ship it HARDER.

So let's see where this madness takes us again, shall we?

To Do the Next Right Thing

Chapter 1

The finality of the war truly didn't sink in until Rey had buried the sabers on Tatooine.

In fact, it all passed her in this insanely cloudy blur of everything happening too fast, too suddenly. The defeat of the Emperor—her grandfather, she had to keep reminding herself—weighed upon her with the burden of becoming one with all the Jedi of generations past; it brought this sinking feeling to her stomach every time she activated either Luke's or Leia's sabers, like their purity shouldn't touch her muddled, unclean bloodline. Should have never been in her hands in the first place.

Yes, she sensed their presence there on Luke's home planet, where it all began. She told the traveler the name "Skywalker" only because in that moment, something in the Force compelled her to answer that way. She sensed she had their blessing to use it, to claim it as something better than her reality.

It didn't feel like the name belonged to her now, with the sabers safe beneath the sand. BB-8 sensed her unease once back onboard the Falcon, commenting that she shouldn't feel down—she had the galaxy laying before her, her staff converted into a lightsaber that was truly hers.

He was right, as per usual. But it didn't stop the silent trek back to Ajan Kloss.

Rey Skywalker. Rey Palpatine. Neither rolled off her tongue particularly well.

Leia had given her the kyber crystal what seemed like ages ago, claiming she'd know what to do with it when the time came.

"One day," Leia had promised, her strong hand enclosing around Rey's before she could refuse it. She didn't touch it again until she finally felt ready to bond with it.

The fear of the glow it would give off kept her from making her own saber for so long, especially after trying to come to terms with her heritage. She couldn't have red. She'd refuse red. Red reflected the former Kylo Ren. It reflected Darth Vader, killing Anakin Skywalker.

It was the color her grandfather had tried to impose on her, trying to get her to see in all red, to see with blind hatred.

And yet, she didn't deserve blue—someone like Finn did. Hence, why she'd needed Finn and Poe with her when Rey finally bonded with her crystal. Its yellow glow surprised them all: Poe with confusion, Finn with ecstasy, Rey with relief. Unlike her name, her kyber crystal at least showed her something within her that wasn't conflicted, that reflected a true nature not even she could yet place.

When she returned to Ajan Kloss, still finding the sight of such lush greens a bit jarring, she was as always greeted with too much pomp and circumstance, a blur of hugs and pats and congratulations that didn't feel earned or deserved. She wasn't Finn and Poe, who had bravely led their little Resistance into what seemed like a lost cause against the Final Order. She wasn't Jannah, who was willing to give her life taking down the Final Order's main Star Destroyer, nor was she Chewie, spreading their message of hope across the galaxy to join the fight.

Rey just went into her own individual fight, that to her didn't seem so impactful or important—much as she'd wanted to help her friends. Palpatine had gotten into her very essence so easily, and now... now all she had to show for it was a name she didn't want to take on and the true death of Kylo Ren and Ben Solo. A "true Jedi" she was, sure, but a war hero? She deserved no such respect.

"How was your mission?" Poe asked, bypassing Rey to kneel down and make sure BB-8 hadn't returned with any damage. In tact, as per usual.

"It's done," Rey stated plainly, her fingers playing with the hilt of her new saber. Much as she'd been used to her quarter staff, turning it into a lightsaber would sure take some getting used to, especially after using Luke's for so long. "How has the base been holding up, General?"

"Not too shabby." Poe shrugged, standing again to only pat Rey on the shoulder. He smirked as she addressed him by his new title. At least when they made physical contact, it seemed assuring—comforting, even. "We're considering getting into communication with the Core planets, thinking about establishing something other than anarchy out there in the galaxy."

The last thing Rey wanted to deal with was politics. "Obviously even with the Final Order all but obliterated, supporting stragglers might edge their way out from the shadows." It was how the First Order became so prominent, after all. Maybe communication between planets and ideas was key—but she'd seen enough selfish agendas to know this entire conflict was nothing short of a mess.

And certainly not a mess she wanted to clean, or be a part of (or worse: the face of).

They made their way to Resistance (should they even call themselves that anymore, now that they'd won?) headquarters, the faces of her fellow fighters becoming more and more familiar. There was Jess, tending to her X-Wing, trying to get her mind off the loss of Snap (a loss that also still affected Poe rather greatly). Jannah, in deep discussion with Lando their plans to find her origin, before she'd been snatched up by the First Order. Threepio, probably in some heated argument with Artoo, who surely had quite the attitude. D-0, watching it all on his unbalanced wheel. Finn and Chewie, approaching her with huge grins and open arms—arms Rey sank right into like it was home.

Chewie in particular needed the extra squeeze around his fur, after everything that had transpired these past few years.

Looking out again, Rey squinted her eyes as she noticed a tall figure in a tattered blue hood, squandering about the crowd aimlessly. Like they didn't know where they were going. Like they... didn't belong. And... Rey had never seen this person in the Resistance before; were they a new fighter? Some new recruit Poe had scoured out during her absence? A feeling in the Force had her hone in on this individual, warning her to keep a cautious eye out.

Finn sensed her unease, and followed Rey's gaze to the figure. "What is it?" he asked, more out of what she was feeling more than confusion.

Rey pointed toward them with her chin. "Do you know that person?"

The figure turned their face toward them, and Finn's eyes widened. "It can't be..." he murmured.

"What?" Now Rey was the confused one.

"Hm?" Poe, wanting to be in on the conversation, followed suit, and immediately mirrored Finn's surprised expression. "No way—"

"What?" Rey repeated; she'd never seen this person before in her life, and she certainly would have remembered that permanent scowl, the shock of red hair falling in his face... wait—

"General Hux?"exclaimed Finn, and at the sound of his name, Hux stared back for a moment, mouth agape, before promptly turning on his heel to no doubt make some sort of escape.

How the hell did a First Order general survive the battle on Exegol, let alone make it to the Resistance base on Ajan Kloss? Brow furrowing, Rey nudged her way past her friends and began pursuing Hux, grateful that the Force had told her to be wary. This man was one of the most dangerous in the galaxy, from everything she'd heard from Finn and Poe. He shouldn't be kept alive after what he'd just seen here, nor for his crimes as someone so associated with the First Order.

"Wait, Rey—" Poe called, but Rey was already on the hunt, stepping in front of Hux with her lightsaber drawn, ready to strike. Hux stopped in his tracks, green eyes wide.

"Who did you murder to make your way here?" she accused. Really, she shouldn't have given him a chance to speak, should have just struck and gotten it over with, but before he died, she deserved some sort of explanation.

After a moment of stillness, Hux's face relaxed back into its usual scowl. "No one," he replied calmly. "I simply asked for a ride."

"You have no one to turn to on Ajan Kloss," Rey threatened, stepping forward. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't strike you where you stand right now."

"Rey." She had no idea when Finn had appeared beside her, placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. "I hate to say it, but you should really hear him out."

Her hand faltered slightly. "After everything he's done?" she asked. His face remained stoic—smug, almost, even.

Poe and Chewie trotted up to them, joining in on the confrontation. Surely they'd back her up, right?

"Hux was the First Order spy who gave us information about Palpatine's return on Exegol," Poe explained lowly. "Without him, we wouldn't have been able to rescue Chewie and make it out alive."

Chewie growled in agreement, confirming the story.

Begrudgingly, Rey deactivated her saber, but it didn't stop her from taking Hux's arm roughly, leading him away from prying eyes, wondering what had made Rey actually activate her saber. He didn't protest, which only infuriated her further. No, her friends wouldn't lie to her about something so important—but General Hux, the spy for which they'd been so grateful? Without whom, they would have been steps behind the First Order in finding out Ren's—and ultimately Palpatine's—plan? It'd certainly take a while for her to believe.

Behind the Falcon seemed private enough. Rey pushed Hux back—probably an overly aggressive move, but she had to get her frustrations out somehow. Again, Finn's hand moved up to her shoulder, trying to ground her. Chewie stood just behind Hux, in case he had any funny ideas, Rey supposed. Poe crossed his arms tersely, chewing on his bottom lip. The thick tension probably couldn't even be cut with her saber.

"We were surrounded," Finn elaborated, trying to catch Rey up, "while you were looking for the blade. Hux blasted a hoard of Troopers before they could execute us."

"It's just 'Armitage' now," Hux piped up, placing his hands on his far-too-thin hips. Rey couldn't possibly fathom how anyone so high up in enemy ranks could look more malnourished than she'd been on Jakku. Even his new, tattered getup—no doubt taken off the back of some poor, dead victim—hung off his gawky frame in all the wrong places, the grey jacket too big and the belt cinched to its tightest setting. "My father's name holds too much familiarity within whatever's left of the First Order."

"So what, you just defected, then? Took the coward's way out?" Rey could feel the sarcasm dripping from her voice, something she just couldn't control in this heat of the moment.

"No," Hux—Armitage—replied bitterly. "Your defected Stormtrooper—Finn, was it, now?—He shot me in the leg to cover up my assistance."

"Shouldn't you be dead?" Poe piped up. "Something tells me the former Allegiant General Pryde could see right through that ruse."

"I was expecting it." But Armitage didn't elaborate past that.

No. Rey was getting her explanation, no matter what it took. She took a heated step toward the former general. "So talk. You came to the Resistance base knowing these three would vouch for you, which means you're expecting some sort of safety net to get wherever you're ultimately going despite what you've done. Fill in those gaps for me, then, Armitage: how did you escape the First Order and make it here?"

Armitage just raised a red brow; whether it was out of amusement or intimidation, Rey couldn't tell. "You might want to sit. It's going to take a while to explain."

Rey shrugged, mirroring his stance as she planted her hands on her hips, defiant. "You're lucky the war is over, then. We've got all the time in the world."

Yes, I'm naming the fic after a song in Frozen II. Yes, it makes sense here.

Likes, comments, and kudos will definitely let me know if I'm on the right track, though—and I really, really wanna see this thing through.