Star Wars, Episode IX: Duel of the Fates: Chapter 13- The Final Trial, Part 2

**for previous chapters, please refer to the Table of Contents**

        With time in this place being so ephemeral, Rey could not have said how long they'd been fighting. With both ground and weather shifting all around them, often seemingly at random, both had had to resort to every fighting and physical skill they'd mastered just to keep even. As the Mortis continued to shift in faster and faster cycles around them, from day to night to day and back again to night, Rey and Sidereas struck and parried, attacked and defended. Rey could no longer see or sense the old Masters, but Sidereas' attacks were too intense, too rapid, for her to dwell on her sense of utter isolation. Her twin blades whirled around her like wavering shields, her arms jerking back and forth to hold back any strike Sidereas attempted. However, his own guardrail blades allowed him extra time to react to every effort she made to pass his defenses, and every attempt forced her to retreat once again, least one of his energy blades find flesh.

        For all the increased rage and power she'd sensed in Ben as soon as he'd appeared, their blows had, at first, carried equal strength between them. Slowly, though, she could feel her strength ebbing. Force nexus or no, she couldn't remember the last time she'd ate, or slept, or had a moment of peace to simply close her eyes and breathe. Everything had gone by so fast, and she realized she was now approaching her limit.

        Almost as if the Mortis itself was reacting to her detiorating mental state, a rip appeared beneath them, fissuring up beneath Rey's left foot. She finished a deflection of another attack in time to shift her feet beneath her to avoid falling, but this was just one things too many. She simply couldn't react quickly enough to the lightsaber and her opponent and the very land around them; this time, she couldn't turn her body quickly enough to avoid the impact of a hard kick following Sidereas' lightsaber sweep that felt as hard and sharp as a metal blade. The breath was forced out of her lungs and she felt herself crumble backwards, landing hard on her side against a rocky outcropping rising up out of the ground that she'd apparently been backing into. All at once, her body felt as if it were made of stone, and it was all she could to remain standing upright and keep her saber lit in her hand.

        Immediately, the Force around her was filled with a sense of menacing triumph. Grimacing, drawing on the Force to pull air into her lungs, Rey looked at the shadow before her. The figure that was once Ben Solo raise its glowing blade in a salute, and its angry voice spoke; "Now, finally, it all ends."

        Before he could approach, though, before Rey could even try to summon the strength to go on, the world was once more brought to a halt by the sound of something Rey would never have expected here.

        Leia's voice, calm yet filled with strength, filled the air around them.

        "Ben. My son."

        Sidereas seemed to be as caught off guard as Rey. Pausing for a moment, he turned to the side, and both he and Rey say Leia, standing before them with the gentlest of smiles on her face.

        Rey, gasping through the pain that still ached in her stomach, tried to find something to say. "Leia, you....are you....how...."

        Was she dead? Or was she alive and physically there, like her and Ben? She appeared more solid than the Masters had, but there was still something faint about her appearance, though Rey was still not sure that couldn't just be her exhaustion.

        Sidereas merely contemplating her for a moment in silence before speaking, turning more of his body away from Rey and towards this new figure.

        "First Father, then you. Are you also a phantom? Or are you here so I can kill you too?"

        Leia's voice remained soft, but the pain in her eyes was all too apparent. "Ben, please. Just leave all this. You are still my child and I've already forgiven you. Just leave it, and let's be a family again."

        Rey felt her heart break at hearing this, but Sidereas merely snorted with contempt. "I guess I can say it as often as I want, none of you sentimental idiots will ever get it. Alright then." With this, he settled back into a fighting stance, "If you are real, then this is just another test. I can kill you too, and finally be at peace."

        Leia merely looked at him another moment before responding. "If that's what you truly want, Ben, then I won't fight you."

        Though the rocky ground underneath her didn't move this time, Rey felt as if all matter around her had been blasted away, leaving her trapped inside a cold, deathly void. No. Leia, no.

        Her vision began to blur with tears, but she could still identify the shadow-that-was-Ben as it began to move towards Leia. And this sight, somehow, lit a fire that banished all the pain, all the exhaustion, all the worry, that Rey had felt pulling her down. No. Absolutely not. She wasn't about to lose another teacher. Another friend. Her family. Not this time.

        Rey felt her body move like lightning through the air, flipping up and over Sidereas just as he began a horizontal swing that would have cut Leia apart at the waist. Instead, Rey's downward-facing first blade halted him in his tracks, her fury and determination to end this now making the Force around them seem to glow with renewed purpose. Her strength returning, Rey was now defining the terms of the fight, striking and parrying and attacking again and again, forcing Sidereas back on his heels. Using the same tactic she'd fallen prey to, she rapidly followed one attack with a spinning side kick that avoided the guards and connected with Sidereas' knuckles. With an audible crunch and a repressed grunt of pained surprise, Sidereas' lightsaber deactivated as it was sent spinning away. Now, it was the wannabe Sith Lord backed against a rocky outcropping, Rey standing above him with her blade poised for another strike.

        Now, now, do it now. Rey could feel the Force burn within and around her. Her thoughts and motions slowed, as if she had sunk into deep water. Strike him down, bring balance, bring peace, end it. Her vision blurred around the edges, a swirling gray around the still-solid image before her. He's hurt me, he's hurt us, he killed Han, he killed Luke, he'll kill Leia. She had been alone, so alone, for so many years, until she found Poe and Finn and Han and Leia and Luke, and this man had tried to hard to take it all away, and now I can end all this and save the Jedi, save the galaxy...

        Rey. Leia's voice, again, still so gentle and loving and calm. Somehow, just hearing her name like that silenced her thoughts, pulled her out of the tunnel she hadn't realized she was burrowing into, brought her back to herself.

        Rey, her saber still lit and poised above her her, looked with new eyes at the person before her, and Ben, at Sidereas, at the Supreme Leader of the First Order. And she knew, with a finality that she found oddly comforting, that she could not be the one to strike down Ben Solo. Her lightsaber deactivated as if of its own accord. Her arms fell to her sides.

        For a split moment, after Rey's blades faded away, Sideareas stood completely still, hardly daring believe that he was still alive. But he was, no matter how, and that meant he still could- would- triumph. A stray thought of his, searching through the Force, located the feel of his lightsaber, lying a dozen meters away where it had stopped rolling. Keeping his injured hand behind his back as if to protect it, he twitched a finger. In his mind, he felt his blade slowly rise into the air and begin to slowly circle around behind Rey, far out of her line of sight. Now, to just keep her attention on him long enough.

        Rey thought she'd been tired before, but now it was as if the weight of the entire universe had settled into every fibre of her being. She fought the tendrils of unconsciousness that began to grasp at the edges of her thoughts, working to speak, to try once more to see if Ben was still there.

        "...I'm sorry, Ben," every word was a struggle, "I'm sorry it came to this. But I can't be the one to kill you."

        Somehow, even now, the look of hatred and determination remained, and the voice was as dismissive and contempt-filled as ever. "Because you're weak. Like my uncle and my parents. That's why the Jedi were destroyed. That's why you'll fail."

        Rey could only slowly shake her head at this. How could he not understand?

        "I can't kill you Ben...." and here her voice became sadder than she'd ever thought possible, "...you've destroyed yourself already."

        His opponent's words mere chatter in his ears, Sidereas continued to twist his finger ever so slowly, until he could feel that his unlit saber was in place, aimed directly at Rey's back. It trembled in midair, almost as if it was anticipating his strike, his victory, as much as he was. Rey still seemed no closer to resuming the attack, but he'd felt her rage earlier and knew that could change at any time. Now. Now was his chance. He made the smallest of motions with his index finger, and his blade picked up speed, pressure building on the activation plate.

        This time, there was no voice. No actual warning. Rey could barely think at this point, could barely stand. It had all been too much, and she was only one person, barely a Jedi. All she could feel was a nudge, deep within herself- or, perhaps, from the Force- to just....let it go. To take this weight off her own shoulders. To accept her own limitations, her own weaknesses, that no amount of Jedi training would ever perfect or magic away. Rey couldn't save Ben, or the universe, all on her own, because no one person could bear that sort of power. No one person could ever encompass the whole galaxy. The Sith kept trying, and they kept breaking themselves in the process. If Rey wanted to be different, to actually change something, she would first have to learn to let go.

        And she did. Rey took a breath, the deepest she'd taken in what felt like ages, and felt the weight dissipate in her shoulders and legs. Suddenly filled with a profound peace and only semi-conscious of her own body, Rey felt herself crumble to her knees...

        ......the instant his blade was at bullet-speed, the whirring snap-hiss of its three-pronged activation casting the deepening shadows around them in a red hue. Sidereas had no time to react. No time to move or even make a sound. There was only the split-second realization, as Rey collapsed before him, leaving his own body in the direct path of the fire-red lightsaber he'd deliberately thrown with all his telekinetic strength. Even as it tore through his chest, burying itself to the hilt in his lung, he stood, so entirely in shock that at first he didn't even register any pain.

        Rey hadn't heard the unmistakable sound until she was on her knees, having just barely thrown her arms out to stop her falling completely onto the bare ground. Once it registered, and her nostrils filled with the stench of burning flesh, she snapped her head up to see Sidereas standing there, still stone-solid as if frozen, his blade buried in his chest and protruding like some hellish fin from his back, with the front part of his robe beginning to smoke from the proximity of the lightguards. Her senses fully returning to her, she jumped up and grabbed the hilt, immediately deactivating the blade and tossing it aside. Only then did it appear to register in Sidereas' eyes what had happened.

        "Oh..." came out in a small voice, and he then began to crumple backwards. Rey instinctively used the Force to slow his body, settling him gently on his back. The waves of light and weather around them began to shift more slowly now, almost sluggish, as if the Mortis itself was exhausted from the battle that it had born witness to.

        "Ben...Ben..." Rey's brain kept telling her to face facts, that there was no way he could possibly survive this with no medic or gear of any sort on hand, but her heart still refused to believe it. "Ben, you'll be ok. Please. Say something."

        He saw her lips moving, but couldn't hear anything. He could barely feel the ground beneath him, nor could he smell or taste the air. Only his eyes remained active, it seemed, as he saw Rey's face contort with emotion as she continued to try to speak with him. He could feel himself fading.

        Suddenly, it wasn't just Rey before him. All the apparitions from before, all the old, dead Jedi, Luke foremost among them, were once again there. And, curiously, when Luke Skywalker spoke, he heard him loud and clear.

        "It's over, Ben," he said, his voice both resigned and regretful at the same time. "But you can still join us. Reach out to us, and we can still draw you in to the light."

        For a moment, Sidereas didn't respond. He saw, as if viewing a holovid, the moments from his life flash by that had led him here. Led him to his failure. To his death.

        And he knew it had all meant....nothing. He was now...had always been....would always be....nothing.

        His eyes focused one last time on the face of Luke Skywalker, and he spoke. "Now. Now it's dead and buried."

        Ben Solo fell into darkness, forever.

        Rey had barely had a moment to try and register what Ben had just said when his body began to fade into nothingness, his clothes and gear simply falling limp and empty to the ground below, like some stragen apparition.

        "No...NO! BEN!" she cried out, but it was too late. Even within the Force, she felt it as certain as anything.

        Ben Solo- Kylo Ren- Darth Sidereas- was gone forever.

Review: Dune

Dune (2021): Written by Denis Villeneuve, Jon Spaihts, and Eric Roth, directed by Denis Villeneuve. Starring: Timotheé Chalamet, Rebecca Ferguson, Oscar Isaac, Josh Brolin, Stellan Skarsgard, Dave Bautista, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Zendaya, Chang Chen, Sharon Duncan-Brewster, Charlotte Rampling, Jason Momoa, and Javier Bardem. Running Time: 155 minutes. Based on the novels by Frank Herbert.

Rating: 3/4

        I have to admire the boldness of Dune, another attempt to "adapt the unadaptable," though by this point I wonder if that particular phrase has lost most of its luster. It goes whole-hog on old-school, operatic sci-fi grandeur, enhanced by the sheen of modern design and effects technology, to deliver a good old, sensory-overload experience that is in no hurry to get where it's going, even if it means waiting for a sequel that may or may not happen. In a world so thoroughly shaped by the legacy of LOTR, it has become almost rote to expect anything and everything out of major studios to come as part of a pre-planned, pre-packaged, and mostly pre-produced series of films. A trilogy at bare minimum, more if the studio thinks they can milk the IP enough.

        At first glance, Dune appears to be banking on this trend to continue. The movie almost comically ends with someone uttering that fateful line, "This is just the beginning," even though (as of this writing) no further films have been announced and the commercial success of this first effort is still very much up in the air. People my age are unlikely to remember, but this actually used to be much more par for the course before the age of endless IP franchises. Many different original films would try to have some sort of cliffhanger or hanging plot thread included, just in case the filmmakers were able to get the go for another one. Sometimes it happened, sometimes it didn't (Buckaroo Bonzai remains a legendary example of the latter). Obviously, given the very tortured history of Dune adaptations, nothing could come of this, and Villeneuve's version will merely be remembered as a particularly gaudy and expensive case study in "What If."

        For now, though, we simply have the film at hand, and despite its flaws, this is the sort of grand spectacle movie theaters will built for and the kind of experience I've waited years (literally!) to get. Sorry Tenet, but this is the pandemic-era film meant to remind us all why theaters remain such special and essential places. It's also, for me personally, another one of those grand, sprawling, high-concept fictional worlds of kings and wars and magic and destinies that I remain such an ardent sucker for. This is very much a movie designed to appeal to me, personally, and for the most part, it very much succeeds.

        The central figure in this space opera is Paul (Timotheé Chamelet), scion of one of the more powerful noble families that apparently rule over individual planets as feifdoms within a much larger galactic empire of some sorts. There are many hints, terms, and names dropped of the power players and factions at play, but to be frank, the film is at its weakest when it's trying to tuck in greater worldbuilding, especially since the importance of it all is clearly being held in reserve in case sequels do, in fact, get greenlit. Paul seems to generally have a happy life with his family and friends, including his parents (Oscar Isaac and Rebecca Ferguson) and his two mentors/trainers, Gurney (Josh Brolin) and Duncan (Jason Momoa). One thing that is important is that Paul seems to have inherited some sort of unusual, voice-based power from his mother, who has been training him in its usage ever since he was a child. What this is meant to signify is, again, hinted at but never really made clear, other than that this marks Paul as a child of destiny, whatever that will turn out to mean.

        Their relatively comfortable life of power and luxury is brutally thrown into disarray when the family is forced by the Emperor into the power politics of the dynastic families. We know from the film's narrator (Zendaya, playing a young girl from a local drive on the titular desert planet Arrakis) that the most valuable substance in the universe is a type of spice only found in the deserts of her homeworld, which has led to its brutal subjugation under the Harkonnen, the wealthiest and most powerful of the families beneath the throne. Now, though, for reasons unclear to everyone involved, the Harkonnens have been ordered off the planet, with Paul's family, House Atreides, commanded to take its place.

        We aren't in the Star Wars universe here, but even if we were, we wouldn't need the services of a certain Mon Calamari admiral to see the trap being so clearly set and prepared for House Atreides. And this is where the meat of the story gets going, as various figures both seen and unseeen begin to make their moves. The most consequential, at least for now, is the revenge planned by the leader of the Harkonnens, Stellan Skarsgard in a remarkable fat suit who is, in fact, so massive, he can only move via special anti-gravity generators installed into his spine. If nothing else, it allows for some truly striking visual moments. His nephew, the leader of Harkonnen forces, is our beloved Dave Bautista, but he was here for a surprisingly short amount of time. My assumption is that he will play a much more prominent role in a sequel, should that in fact happen.

        The wild card in how the conflicts play out will clearly be the natives of Arrakis, the Fremen ("free men," you get it?), and it's here where the film starts to tread into very political and racial waters that I can only hope a sequel would address more firmly. There is, to put it mildly, a very racial/colonial tone to a story about a native population brutally repressed by foreigners seeking to engage in wanton, destructive resource extraction. My knowledge of the books is, at this moment, supremely sparce, but at least within this adaption, nobles like those from House Atreides are clearly coded as typical European nobles (i.e., White), while the Fremen are a mixture of Black, Hispanic, and Indigenous, with heavy Muslim tones to their dress, architecture, and religious practices thrown in.

        Now, that's no problem in and of itself- we've had too many movies to count that uses this sort of shorthand and will undoubtedly get many before the sun goes out- but once we start to get into the notion of Paul being some sort of "Chosen One" prophesied and half-worshipped by the Fremen, destined to lead the galaxy to a brighter future, the "White Savior" bells started to chime in my brain. Maybe there's more to this in the books, or maybe there isn't but Villeneuve is aware of our current age and has a few twists in store for us. I will reserve judgment in this regard for now, but let this stand as my statement of tentative concern.

        For now, though, I really do dig this movie and its massive scale. We've had so many spaceships in so many franchises by now, but this was the first time in awhile where one was able to give a sense of awe-inspiring scale to the machines and vehicles used to transport people from one place to the next. There is a lot of the heavy, color-coded atmosphere that made Villeneuve's Blade Runner sequel so memorable in spite of the fact that it didn't need to exist, so much so that I can easily imagine him deciding to just stick with adapting these sorts of fabled old IP properties forever. We also have the first genuinely great Hans Zimmer score we've gotten in some time, since at least Dunkirk, also something I didn't realize I'd been missing until I got it again.

        The production design and background worldmaking is augmenting by a massive, spot-on cast that is very much game for the material on hand, whether their roles be tiny or obscenely large, including, to my astonishment, a tiny but memorable role for Benjamin Clementine. Chamelet is still on an all-upwards trajectory in my books and I am very much interesting in seeing what he can do with Paul if he's given the chance. Oscar Isaac remains king of my heart forever and always, and I very much hope that this movie will also serve as a reminder to mainstream audiences just how lucky we are to be sharing this Earth with Josh Brolin and Javier Bardem.

        By a strange quirk of fate, I got to see this a good month before it will hit in the States. The International Movie Release Fascists finally decided to do me a solid, I guess. At any rate, I will be very interested to see how other audiences (including minority audiences) react once this is in general theaters. It'll be an interesting Fall.

-Noah Franc

Star Wars, Episode IX: Duel of the Fates: Chapter 12- The Final Trial, Part 1

**for previous chapters, please see the Table of Contents**

        The streets of the main public squares of Coruscant, including every block from the Senate Building to the Jedi Temple and in the surrounding Commerce Sector, were chaos. Finn, Rose, Jannah, and their accomplices, after rapidly overwhelming the thin forces watching over the cells, had barely needed to try to convince those on the street to join them and take a share of the plentiful arms they'd liberated from the prison storage units. It seemed to Finn, his head still blazing with newfound sensations, that on every corner battalion after battalion of First Order troops were falling back, disorganized and panicking.

        Before them, they faced an impromptu blockade of downed speeders, tables, chairs, and whatever else the stormtroopers behind it had managed to throw together on the fly, and a withering crossfire was keeping both sides pinned in place for the time being. Finn and Rose had stuffed themselves behind the remains of some delivery vehicle that had been flipped on its side by an earlier explosion. A few meters to the side, Jannah was sheltering as well, and all three of them leaned out when they dared to fire back at the barricade.

        Head still buzzing, Finn turned towards Jannah and shouted over the noise, "Well? What now?"

        She yelled back, "Any more Jedi tricks? Can you throw something nice and heavy at them?"

        Finn shook his head. New powers or no, he certainly wasn't ready to something that adventurous. "Na. Don't think I'm quite there yet."

        "Shame. Plan B then!"

        "Plan..." but before Finn could articulate the question, Jannah reached behind her back and produced a small flare blaster, casually pumping a round over her head in the direction of the congested obstacles and soldiers opposite them. Sudden movement caught Finn's attention. He looked up to see a half-dozen people he recognized from the prison appear over the ledge of the elongated balcony on top of the building above them, each one carrying a grenade launcher. They immediately began shooting out charges that arced over the barricade they faced; almost immediately warning cries rang out, and Finn could feel the soldiers dashing back around the corner to avoid the explosions that then ripped apart the improvised barrier.

        "NOW, let's GO!" he yelled out before he even thought of moving. The three of them, plus another eight survivors from the group they'd first left with, quickly filled in the space abandoned by the soldiers and easily overcame the stragglers who hadn't gotten out of sight in time.

        With a brief chance to breathe, the sounds of fighting in other streets and alleyways still overwhelming, they gathered together and took stock.

        Finn turned to Jannah, "When did you set that up?"

        "It was only a matter of time before we were pinned down, so when we left I sent a company up to find a good piece of roof and wait for my sign. Lucky for us, they found just the right place. Now you're turn." She gently nudged Finn with her blaster. "Your escape, your party. What's our goal?"

        Finn and Rose needed only a moment to look each other in the eye and confirm what they both thought. It was Rose who answered. "The Temple. Our friend disappeared there, so if she can somehow come back, that's where it should be. I'd rather she find us waiting and not the First Order."

        "Good enough for me," Jannah turned around and addressed the rest of her company, which had slowly congregated behind her while they'd been talking. "Alright, you heard her. With us, gentlebeings. We're going to liberate the Jedi Temple."

        A cry rang out behind the three of them as they turned back towards the main square and advanced forward.

        By the time they'd managed to shoot their way to the square facing the Temple, coming around the corner they'd first arrived at with Rey just a few hours ago, their numbers had swelled beyond count from other groups joining them at each block. Looking across the plaza, Finn saw that a cordone of troopers and barriers were being hastily assembled in front of the Temple. Clearly, the First Order had been thinking along the same lines they had, that whatever happened, the Temple would be at the center of it all. Thankfully, they were apparently scattered enough that they couldn't even defend this spot adequately; a brief eye test reassured Finn that they outnumbered the company across the open space at least two to one. Maybe it was all finally turning their way after all.

        He turned back to Rose, Jannah, and the others they'd started out with, and raised his voice, "Okay, we're almost there! Let's finish this!"

        With another collective roar, the crowd surged forward, each one firing at will as they went. Before Finn could take ten steps though, a series of massive explosions ripped through the sides of their ranks as a handful of low-flying TIE fighters streaked down from the sky. Throwing his arms up instinctively, Finn turned to see three accompanying transport ships land in the middle of the plaza and immediately begin to disgorge rows of gleaming stormtrooper armor. Even worse, once the regular troops had disembarked, a black-clad Knight, each weilding some form of exotic blade that crackled with lightsaber-esque energy, exited each craft as well and immediately threw themselves into the fighting before them, each one leaving a swatch of blood and bodies in their wake.

        Barely able to think, knowing that there was now no strategy to consider except survival, Finn turned in time see Jannah sent flying by another explosion from the fighters overhead. Beyond her, Rose was staring down one of the Knights, one carrying a huge, glowing axe with which he was apparently able to to divert or deflect everything shot at him. Instantly, recognizing the marks on the mask that hid the face, Finn knew- this was the same Knight that had led the defense at Kuat, the same one that had flushed them out and arrested them at the Temple earlier.

        And he was now moving quickly in Rose's direction, swinging his blade with absurd speed and smacking away every shot Rose was sending in his direction. This was a brutal Force-user, trained by Kylo Ren himself. Advancing with an aura of murder towards the woman he loved.

        His chest constricted as his breath rushed out of his body. "No....Rose! ROSE!" Time seemed to slow down to an agonizing crawl. The horrendous chaos of sound that surrounded him melted together into a grating hum as he urged his body, urged himself, forward. Run, he thought, over and over and over, trying to make Rose read his mind by sheer force of will. Run away from him.

        But Rose didn't run. Instead, she shifted her grip on the gun so as to keep up the fire with her left hand while her right reached behind for one of the thermal detonators she'd grabbed back at the prison. Flicking the activation switch, with a quick, fluid motion she tossed it towards the approaching figure.

        This, too, had no beneficial effect; instead, the Knight simply hurtled towards her with increasing speed, the blinking detonator spinning off of, away, and behind him as if propelled by an invisible shield, exploding in a flash of light and fire that merely added more impetus to his drive. Before Rose could even consider another option, his blade tore through her weapon and spun it away. A kick of blinding speed followed immediately after, doubling Rose over and forcing her down to a knee in clear pain.

        Finn was still at least 15, maybe 20 feet away. Too slow. Too late. He saw the blade raise back up in the air over Rose's bent and gasping figure. He reached out a hand and opened his mouth as if to scream, but now, suddenly, all sound seemed to cut out. All he could see, all he could think of, was that terrible, red blade and the need for it to stop before it touched the woman he loved.

        And, amazingly...it did stop. For what was maybe an instant, and maybe forever, Finn felt as if he was encased in carbonite, his tense body and outstretched hand pouring all his energy into holding that blade in place. A sense of astonishment and fury rang out from the dark figure, realizing what was happening, while Rose gaped up at them both in amazement. Withdrawing into himself, the Knight glared at Finn and he felt something like a wave wash over him and break down his concentration. The blade finally jumped forward, finishing its arc, though Rose had backed away enough that it merely sliced into the permacrete of the ground.

        Though he'd only stopped him for a moment, Finn felt once more that the Force was with him, right there, amateur though he might be. Feeling that certainty again, he began to move towards the Knight, his blade quickly freed from the furrow in the ground it had dug itself into. As the blade began to spin and crackle again, everything once again started to slow, and Finn felt as if he could see the motions of the fight to come as a series of still-frames in his mind.

        Instead of trying to fire his gun from a distance, he kept going until his opponent was right in front of him, swinging his weapon from the side as if to cut through Finn at the chest. Knowing exactly what to do and when, Finn simply followed the flowing instructions that came into his brain. He ducked rapidly at the last possible second, twisting beneath the arcing blade and feeling it sizzle along the back of his jacket as it passes over. Rising up before the Knight could respond, he flipped the rifle in his hands and turned it up and over the path the blade had taken to slam the butt fight into the nose of the mask of the black-clad figure. A cracking sound rang as he stumbled back a step. Not letting up, Finn turned the gun around once more and sent 3 rounds into his chest at point-black range, feeling the plasma burn through the Knight's thin armor.

        Amazingly, this seemed to only force him to take no more than a step back. Even as smoke began to come out of the wounds, Finn could sense the grim darkness his opponent was drawing into himself, somehow willing himself to continue the fight through sheer hatred.

        Once, Finn would have all too eagerly killed this damned creature out of hatred too. Now, though, with the certainly of seeing what was to come, he felt calmer than he ever remembered feeling.

        Forcing himself forward one last time, the Knight raised up the axe and threw himself towards Finn, cutting straight down towards his head. Again waiting until the last moment, Finn simply turned to the side as the attack whisked by, grasping the wrist of the Knight as the blade once again struck permacrete, twisting with a strength he never knew he had to send the handle of the blade spinning uselessly away. Though the mask remained on his face, Finn could feel the hatred burning away at the air between them as he raised his gun once more, aiming directly beneath the chin. He pulled the trigger, and the hatred vanished into nothingness as the Knight finally crumpled, motionless, to the ground.

        A second passed, then two. It was as if he and Rose had been transported out of the battle for just a moment, though it still raged around them. Dazed, they turned to each other at the exact same time.

        Rose's eyes burned with pride. "Knew you could do it, dummy." Then they were rushing into each other's arms, a moment of blissful togetherness.

        But it could only be a moment. Rose pulled away and took stock of the chaos around them; it seemed like it was each to their own, with no one side having the advantage over the other.

        "Well. Not sure there's much sense in trying to plan anything now. Any idea where Jannah is?"

        Finn shook his head. "I saw her knocked over by a blast, but I'm pretty sure she wasn't hit."

        "Let's find her first, then."

        "Yeah." Just then, a thought occured to him. He looked over at the curved axe-sword that he'd been dodging for his life just a minute ago. Slowly, he reached down and picked it up. Feeling around the handle, he located an activation switch, which seemed to be what sent out the electrical, lightsaber-esque charge that made the weapon so dangerous.

        Smiling, he glanced back at Rose. "What do you think? Battlefield souvenir?"

        Rose rolled her eyes at that rather than respond, but he could see the smile playing at her lips. Squeezing each others' hands one last time, they turned back to wade into the bloody melee around them.

***

        Before him, the Destroyer continued to fill his field of vision, larger than life. Centering himself on the upcoming run, Poe flipped his radio back on; "Lando, Chewie, you set?"

        "Ready when you are," came the baritone reply, with an eager roar from Chewie accompanying it as confirmation.

        Poe flipped over to the other comm channel he had open to the Mon Cal Heavy Cruiser Ackbar II, "Commander, we're going in for the run. Be ready to strike when the shields drop."

        "Confirmed," came the reply, in the gravely tone of voice that seemed standard for all Mon Cal. "Good hunting, and may the Force be with us."

        Poe offered a silent affirmation in his head, then began to accelerate at the same rate as the Falcon towards the base of the First Order ship. The plan was to hurtle through the line of fighters that formed the ship's defensive screen to focus their fire exclusively on the lower-level shield generators. The Ackbar II, along with two other Calamarian ships, were pounding away on the other side of the behemoth, and a Corellian Dreadnought was pulling up as well to join the fray. The heavy guns of the Destroyer were all occupied as a result, but the shields were proving tough enough so far to keep the ship intact, while the defending fighters were keeping smaller craft far enough away that the generators were still undamanged.

        Poe and Lando were aiming to change that. After all, if anyone in the galaxy was brazen and, maybe, just a bit crazy enough to try to bull-rush an entire screen of fighters and pull it off, it was them.

        They continued to build speed as they approached their target and the first fighters began to take notice of them, twisting into firing position. Instead of reacting the way they would in any normal firefight- began evasive manouvers to avoid opponent shots and start firing themselves- Poe and Lando kept on heading straight through the rapidly-approaching fighters, flipping over nearly all their power to forward shields and shooting up their speed as far as they could go.

        The most-forward ships managed maybe half-a-dozen shots against each of them, but with their defenses on full the plasma merely bounced off harmlessly to the side, and before any of the others could react they'd rocketed through the screen and had an unencumbered view of the ship surface above them, grooved lines acting like arrows pointed to the array of dishes and power installations on the other end of the base that powered the shields.

        "Reversing" came Lando's voice through the comm channel. They both simultaneously did a direct reversal with their shields, putting full power behind them to ward off the TIEs that were now desperately turning in to try and catch up with them. True, their fronts were now vulnerable to the ship's close-range defenses, but both Poe and Lando were yet to encounter either an Empire or First Order gunner who offered them a real threat. Plus, with the defensive screen now behind them, ship gunners would be just as worried that stray shots would take out some of their own.

        And that was exactly how the next minute played out. None of the shots that came at them from the ship's batteries were close enough to make Poe sweat, and all they managed to do was keep the fighters trying to intercept them at an acceptable distance.

        "Target on sight," said Lando, and Poe could see the target segment of the ship approaching. Without needing to coordinate, both armed their full complement of torpedoes and sent them streaming out towards the target, flipping around once more to pull the same rushing trick to get back out of the screen before the bombs blew. The fighters that had continued to gamely attempt pursuit once again scrambled to turn back around after them, but they were even slower this time than the first, and by the time Poe and Lando had punched their way back out of the screen, reams of fire, plasma, and vented atmosphere were streaming out of the whole they'd just blown in the ship's defenses and the remaining fighters had far more important things to worry about than a lone X-Wing and a beat-up Corellian freighter.

        It didn't take long after that. The instant the Destroyer's shields flickered off, the Mon Cal ships send two brilliant, neon broadsides into the ship's main weapons emplacements, crippling its ability to fight back in any meaningful way. With the rebel ships now circling like birds of prey, it took only about 10 minutes before the entire Star Destroyer started to break apart into glowing chunks, each descending in a slow death spiral towards the planetary shields below, while the remaining escort fighters attempted to flee to the protection of the nearest, still-functioning capital ship.

        Glancing around, however, Poe was pleased to note that they no longer had much choice left. Similar attacks like theirs all around the battlefield seemed to have destroyed or crippled at least half of the First Order's biggest war machines. It had been long and brutal, but they had the upper hand and an end game was finally in sight.

        He began to turn back in the direction of Leia's command ship to regroup when he noticed, on the outer fringe of the fight, numerous First Order vessels congregating towards the Destroyer they'd ID'd as Hux's flagship. Both the direction of their flight and the gathering speed indicated on his sensors allowed for only one conclusion; Hux was fleeing the battlefield. Kriffing typical.

        Poe switched over to the c hannel designated for the central bridge of Leia's ship. "General, you catch this? Hux is trying to duck out on us. Are we pursuing?"

        "Message confirmed, captain," instead of Leia, the voice was from her designated second-in-command, a Bothan named Admiral Bwu'atu. "Your assessment is correct. Unfortunately, we're too heavily engaged with the Palpatine at the moment. I'm afraid we don't have enough ships available to pursue."

        "Understood..." Poe paused a moment before voicing the obvious question, "Sir, what's happened to General Leia? Is she alright?"

        A pregnant pause followed before the Admiral responded, "I'm afraid I can't say. She transferred command to me a short while ago and retired to her quarters. She didn't say any more than that and her aides have not responded to any of our calls since then."

        Another pause. "I know you're worried, Captain, but let's focus on the task at hand first. Leia would expect nothing less from us."

        "Agreed, sir. Dameron out." As much as it frustrated him, Poe knew he could do nothing else than swallow his discomfort at Leia suddenly going missing at the height of the battle. Whatever was going on, he had to have faith.

        Gritting his teeth, Poe finished his turn back towards the heat of the battle and rushed forward into the melee once more.

Review: Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings

 

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings (2021): Written by Destin Daniel Cretton, Dave Callaham, and Andrew Lanham, directed by Destin Daniel Cretton. Starring: Simu Liu, Awkwafina, Tony Leung, Meng'er Zhang, Fala Chen, Benedict Wong, Michelle Yeoh, and Ben Kingsley. Running Time: 132 minutes. Based on the comics originally created by Steve Englehart and Jim Starlin.

Rating: 3.5/4

        In retrospect, it's hard to understand how it took me this long to grasp that, like, half of the MCU is basically a meditation on the concept of fatherhood and the many different flavors of father-son/child relationships. Tony Stark yearns to be as effortlessly cool and opulant- nay, more so- than his hotshot Dad. He, in turn, finds himself awkwardly turned into a father-figure by Peter Parker. Thor and Loki grow up in the shadow of Oden, one eagerly trying to fill said shadow before he's ready, the other bitter and resentful that the shadow is even there to begin with. Scott Lang's daughter is his entire motivation to reform his ways just enough to stay out of prison. The whole Guardians franchise, up to and including just about everything about Thanos, is positively dripping with allegories about abusive daddies. And in Black Panther- still untouched as the crown of Marvel filmmaking- T'Challa and Killmonger are shaped from top to bottom by the memories and feelings they have surrounding their fathers' respective deaths. Both worship their fathers as heroes unjustly murdered and see themselves, at least at first, as responsible for picking up their mantles. This is, in turn, driven by the significant degree of guilt and self-blame they've assigned themselves over how, exactly, their fathers were killed.

        Now into that hot mess of a stew comes Shang-Chi, a wuxia-infused martial arts adventure that is all about family and childhood trauma and the scars it leaves behind. And it's that laser-sharp focus on the family dynamics of the central characters that defines this film and raises it above being just another origin story and safely into the upper tier of comic book movies. The grand trio of Thor: Ragnarok, Gaurdians of the Galaxy 2, and Black Panther still reigns supreme, but Shang-Chi is now knocking on that door; this is one of the year's top movie experiences and a new personal MCU favorite.

        The film's dynamite prologue provides us with the backstory of the Ten Rings, ancient magical metal bands that can grant a human immortality and superhuman strength. For thousands of years, they have been in the sole possession of Xu Wenwu (the utterly hypnotic Tony Leung), who had in turn used their power to create a nigh-untouchable, globe-spanning network of power and terror called the Ten Rings. After finally meeting his match in (and subsequently falling in love with) a young woman named Ying Li (Fala Chen) while trying to find a mythical hidden village called Ta Lo, Wenwu actually looks like he might lay the rings (and immortality aside) to just...be a family man.

        Obviously that's not what happened. Otherwise we wouldn't have the movie. We cut to the present day. The son of Wenwu and Ying Li, Shaun/Shang Chi (Simu Liu), is living and working in anonymity in San Francisco as a valet alongside his best friend, Katy (the ever-delightful Awkwafina). Ying Li is dead and Wenwu has revived the Ten Rings, but we don't yet know how or why, and Shaun sure won't tell us; he seems determined to shut all that away and ignore it completely. This is soon made literally impossible when a group of Ten Ring thugs attack him and Katy on their bus to work, forcing him to break out the top-tier martial arts training he'd received from his father after his mother's death to save himself, his friend, and eventually the entire bus of passengers. It is a dynamic and jaw-dropping action sequence that makes full use of the hilly San Francisco terrain, and also showcases part of what makes this film so great; it's relentless (and seemingly effortless) sense of humor in any situation, even when life and death are literally on the line.

        With the cat very much out of the bag, Shaun and Katy head to Macau to try and track down Shaun's sister, Xialing, with whom he'd been estranged ever since leaving his father and the Ten Rings. The switch from ol' San Fran to Super-Neon Chinese Nightlife is as effortless as the movie's action beats, and in short order Shaun has been roped into an ungerground fighting competition, a super awkward (and physically painful) reunion with his sister, who had herself fled their father some years before, and finally all of them being captured by Wenwu himself, finally coming back out of the shadows. Most interestingly, and this is just the first of a number of major story turns the film takes, he admits that he had always known where his children had been. It was only now that it had made sense for him to "bring them home," and my God, is that euphemism putting in some hard hours in this go-around.

        This is where the story enters its second, and soon after its third phase, with the story taking on added layers as more information is revealed to us. We learn more and more about the death of Shang Chi and Xialing's mother, the exact series of events that followed their father rebuilding the Ten Rings, what led Shang Chi and eventually Xialing to abandon him, and the very specific reason he has to now try to reunite his family and search once more for Ta Lo. While these sorts of flashbacks and occasional exposition dumps are par for the course in most origin stories, they are distributed in a very specific and conscientious way throughout most of the film's first two acts. This is another way that Shang Chi manages to hit all the expected beats for a modern superhero movie while still feeling fresh. It avoids the pitfalls of clunky dialogue or pace-upsetting flashbacks that weaken lesser films of this sort and allows a real sense of mystery to build over the first half; given what we know about the amazing powers of Shang Chi's parents, it is genuinely difficult to imagine how his mother could have died and exactly would have led him to flee from his father and effectively abandon his sister to boot. It's a delicate balance, but the film pulls it off remarkably well, again because it remains grounded in genuine and powerful emotions relating to families and their bonds to each other.

        There is also, mercifully, no shoehorned-in romance anywhere. There are hints aplenty regarding Katy and Shang Chi dropped by others, but I very much hope any sequels opt to let sleeping Guard Lions lie. Simu Liu and Awkwafina have a great dynamic with each other that no amount of CGI punch-em-ups can overshadow, very much in the veign of Black Widow and Hawkeye in the first Avengers generation. Another dropped hint by the end (minor spoiler) is that Xialing may end up using the Ten Rings for her own ends and eventually facing off against Shang Chi. Given the nature of these sorts of stories, I suppose it's inevitable, but that doesn't mean I have to eagerly anticipate it.

        The big climax this all comes to is set within a trapdoor final act in an alternate dimension filled with what, I assume, are the Pokemon of the MCU. 'Tis a grand spectacle that, while still having some of the wuxia-style martial arts choreography, goes hog-wild on a giant, CGI spectacle involving a tentacled Cthulu and a massive (and beautiful) Water Dragon that saves Shang Chi in a key moment. While there were moments the barrage of visual effects almost lost me, it is easily the best and most visually interesting punch-up we've gotten on the big screen since the finale of Endgame.

        Throughout it all, we are still following the threads of a man, his sister, and their troubled and abusive father, all of them struggling against the pain and hurt that have defined them for so long. These threads of pain twist around and bind them still, but by the end there may be a path forward for Shang Chi and Xialing, though we obviously won't know for awhile if these paths will lead to good or bad things for either of them. But find out we will, for as the credits takes care to remind us, both Shang Chi and the Ten Rings will return soon.

-Noah Franc

Star Wars, Episode IX: Duel of the Fates: Chapter 11- The Ascension

**for previous chapters, please refer to the Table of Contents**

        The Mortis continued to shimmer and shift and change around them. Rey had long stopped trying to keep track of how much time, exactly, she'd spent here. Plus, as Luke and Yoda had assured her, she could sense that that was an unimportant question. Nonetheless, after the visions she had had and the encouragement the Masters had offered her, she slowly began to think on the battle that must be raging around Coruscant. Not that she didn't trust Poe, Finn, Rose, Lando, or Leia to handle themselves, but sooner or later Kyle Ren would appear (if he hadn't already), and she had to be the one to face him. No one else could do it.

        Yes. It was time she figured out a way back. She turned to Obi-Wan first. "Master Kenobi, when I first arrived here, you said that the Mortis would guide me back to where and when I need to be. Well...-" it felt awkward phrasing something this way to a Jedi Force ghost, but she couldn't think of any way to say it- "...how do I do that? If I'm to face Kylo Ren, then I need to return to Coruscant somehow."

        It was Yoda who spoke up. "Face him, yes. But where...not so sure, I am." He looked around slowly at the scenery around them, which at that moment was once more shifting from glaring sunlight to the dim gray of storm clouds. His face and voice took on a depth and gravity it hadn't had before. "Hm...wait much longer, you will not, I believe. A true storm...about to finally arrive, it is."

        "Indeed...." now it was Qui-Gon who spoke, his voice equally grim. "I can feel it too."

        It was at that moment that a series of sharp, cracking sounds began to build behind Rey, and a red glow starting to creep into her periphereal vision. Suddenly apprehensive at what was about to happen, she slowly turned around.

***

        A brilliant, flourescent sheen of lightning surrounds Kylo Ren. Stemming from the Holocron seated before him, wave after wave of every color imaginable streams over his body, concentrating in the center of his forehead where it sears its way into his being, unfiltered exposure to the dark side rending his mind, body, and soul. Whether the sensation was one of pain or ecstasy, he couldn't tell. He may have screamed- he knew his mouth was open- but he was beyond physical senses, hearing nothing, feeling nothing, seeing only the light.

        It was but a moment in time.

        It was a lifetime.

        It was generations.

        It was the birth, expansion, and heat death of the universe itself.

        It ended, suddenly and without warning, and Kylo Ren found his sense returned to him, gasping for breath on the cold, broken ground, his head bowed towards his heaving chest. The Holocron sat dark and silent for a moment, before the lines of energy formed once again and the figure of Palpatine re-appeared.

        You strength and fortitude is to be commended, Kylo Ren, the voice rumbled, that you could even survive exposure to such raw power is a further sign that you are indeed worthy of the mantle of the Sith. Now, Ben Solo truly is no more. Kylo Ren is no more. Rise now as... and here the voice paused for a moment in contemplation before continuing, Darth...Sidereas.

        The one now named Sidereas slowly contained his breath, feeling his body calm and muscles finally unclench. When he felt in control again, he found his legs beneath him and slowly pushed himself up off the ground. What pain he had been feeling was slowly fading, with the exception of his metal-filled scars, which continued to ache. Though slowly filling with a sense of true triumph, he was astonished at how calm he was able to remain. His inheritance was, at long last, in his hands.

        Before he could respond to Palpatine, however, a whisper in the Force suddenly reached out from behind him and touched his ear. He turned in the direction of the broken entryway and his ship, and a series of images began to flash soundlessly through his head; his ship's console flashing with messages; a great battle in space; riots and pitched street battles in Coruscant; Rey entering the Jedi Temple...

        The figure spoke again, having apparently sensed or seen the same things he had, the voice rising with a passion it had rarely expressed before, Yes, Lord Sidereas; the deciding hour is at hand. You are now the bearer of my legacy, of Vader's raw power! Go, achieve our final victory, and fulfill your destiny!

        For a moment, Sidereas didn't move, his eyes refocusing on the shattered and rotting temple walls around him. Then, he turned back to the Holocron and the image of Palpatine, the last ghost of the old order, darkness in his eyes.

        "You destiny....your legacy....nothing but ruins and ash." Again, he felt a detached wonder at how even his voice and his emotions remained, even as he felt the full might of the dark side swirling within. "I am beyond you. I am beyond Vader."

        The figure tried to speak, the voice now hissing with contempt and danger, How DARE you, you ungrateful...

        But Sidereas immediately cut him off, "I am a new Sith Lord, beholden to no one, especially not you. And I will create my OWN destiny." And without waiting a moment more, he struck, reaching his right hand out and sending out a shrieking blast of Force lightning. The shadow struck back, belatedly, desperately, but Sidereas was far beyond the strength of a memory now. His attack was held back for only a second before overwhelming the defenses of the Holocron.

        A terribly grating sound rang out and the last image of Darth Sidious, Emperor Palpatine, last Lord of the Old Sith, screamed an unholy sound of fury and terror before vanishing in a flash of fire. The Holocron itself then burst out, each one of its innumerable shards disintegrating further until nothing but a spread of burning dust remained where it had once stood. Silence descended once more within the wreckage of the ancient temple, where Darth Sidereas now stood alone.

        He allowed himself a moment to savor the sensation of ultimate triumph before turning back to the entrance to return to his ship. As he passed the threshold to the barren wastes, however, a strange shimmer suddenly passed across his vision, sending ripples of colors around him that washed out the sights of Exegal's landscape. Unsure of what sort of Force power he was encountering now, he paused, his lightsaber held at the ready in the grip of his right hand.

        After a few moments, the shimmer began to fade and his vision settled once again. Instead of the dry ground and red skies of Exegal, he found himself standing in a lush and absurdly green field that contrasted starkly with swirling gray clouds above him. Before he could even consider reaching out with his sense, a powerful sense of the Force, beyond anything he'd ever encountered, rushed into him; wherever he was now, it was a placed pulsing with deep, ancient, pure power.

        He started to wonder how he could determine where he was and how he got here when he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. He turned.

        Rey had felt a deep apprehension the moment the eddies appeared in the air before her, knowing without needing to think that the final trial was now before her. She'd expected Ben- knew it could be no one else- but even then, she wasn't prepared for the battered visage that she now saw, the face of Ben Solo pockmarked and rimmed with deep red scars, burning as if something molten had been poured into his body. His clothes were bloody ruins, his body seeming almost emaciated. Yet there was nothing dimming the fierce power that burned in his eyes as they focused on her.

        Sidereas could no longer even feign surprise that the Force had drawn him to Rey once more, though her obvious disquiet at his...changed...appearance did give him a small measure of perverse pleasure. What did shock him, though, were the images of a host of Jedi around her; the one with the long, bound hair and short goatee was not familiar to him, but he immediately recognized Luke, Yoda, Obi-Wan, and even the pre-Vader visage of his own grandfather, Anakin Skywalker.

        For a moment, no one seemed able to speak. Sidereas found his voice first; "This isn't a vision this time, is it."

        Rey, still with that strange look in her eyes, shook her head. "No...we've both been brought to the Mortis."

        The name immediately rung a bell in Sidereas' head. He looked around, re-examining the ever-changing landscape around them with new interest. "The nexus of the Force...so it is real..." he then turned to the apparitions of the other Jedi. "I suppose it figures. That the last Jedi failures would flee here after death. Is that what you're here for? To try and join forces against me?"

        It was Luke who spoke, slowly shaking his head, "Our fights are long over, Ben. Whatever the future holds, it will be decided between you and Rey. And for what it's worth...I am sorry it's come to this."

        Sidereas snorted derisively. "Cowards to the end. Fine..." he raised his saber into the guard position, igniting all three blades with a snap of the wrist. "It had to happen anyway, so it might as well be here. Draw, Jedi."

        The look in Rey's eyes turned to one of sad pain. "Ben...please...it doesn't have to be this way..."

        "Enough," he sharply cut her off, "your sentimentality is sickening. Ben Solo is dead. Kylo Ren is dead. I am Darth Sidereas, the new Lord of the Sith. And once I've killed you, I will finish what the Emperor and my grandfather failed to do. I gave you your chance to join me, and you threw it away. Now you pay the price. Draw. Your. Blade."

        With a resigned air, Rey finally raised her blade and released its twin arcs of clear blue energy. "Very well then."

        The man who was once Ben Solo lunched, and the swirling skies forked with sparks of light both white and black.