Prologue
"Just one more push, Mrs. Solo," The midwife urged the sweating, panting, dark brunette woman lying on the medical bed, wearing lime green scrubs.
The woman let out a shrill scream, clutching the heavily callused hand of her husband as she sat up slightly, and a second child was born into the world, screaming, almost enraged to be born, it seemed.
The young woman collapsed on the bed, and the midwife announced happily, "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Solo! You have two healthy baby boys."
Han looked at his wife in amazement, but Leia was not pleased at all. "Leia, what's wrong? We have two healthy sons. What could be better than that?"
Leia shook her head, crying. It couldn't be! There was only supposed to be one son. The son that would pass on the pure knowledge of the Force and bring balance.
She looked up into the eyes of her husband Han, and said, "I only saw one son, Han. One, not two. Two means duality, a chance for the darkside of the Force to gain a foothold in the galaxy again. I was warned that if I carried twins this would happen. Snoke, the new leader of the First Order will want our sons to fulfill my father Darth Vader's legacy. We have to separate them. For their safety, and ours."
Han began to tear up, but he nodded his head. "You're right, of course. But they're so young, Leia! Are you sure they are too dangerous together?"
Leia cried. As a mother, she desperately wanted both of her sons. But as the new General of the new rebel alliance, called the resistance, she knew that that was impossible. She closed her eyes, and hardened her heart.
"Yes," She finally said. "One will remain with us, the other will go to Luke. Nurse, bring me my sons, if you would."
The oldest son was handed to Han, and the youngest to Leia. Leia looked down at the dark brown eyes of this son, and said softly, "Hello, Ben."
Ben smiled and reached up to touch her face. Leia smiled back and kissed his forehead. "Han, hand me Ben's brother."
Han held Ben in his arms, and instantly felt love for this warmer, gentler boy. The oldest boy was placed in Leia's arms, and she tried to muster the same amount of love for this boy as Ben, and found that she could not.
Leia saw that this boy had ink black eyes, and jet black hair to match it. He had both Han's and her own features, but they seemed twisted into this dark version of a boy who was looking at her with love. She didn't know if Luke could erase the darkness inside of her son, but she had to try. Everything depended on it.
"Kylo."
Kylo's little mouth twitched in a smile at the name, and when he touched her face, he flooded her mind with visions of Darth Vader, a girl from a desert planet like Tattooine. Heartbreak, then love, hope. A balance in the Force.
"Mother, don't send me away," Kylo's adult voice said softly through the Force, Please."
There was a small part of Leia that wished that she had listened to her older, darker twin son. But her mind was made up: he would be sent to her brother Luke as soon as both sons were old enough to be weaned, and could take the bottle.
When the time came to hand Luke her son Kylo, Kylo pleaded with her one last time to not send him away. Leia sobbed, and held her one year old son tightly in her arms until Luke gently took him from his sister's arms. It would be thirty years before she saw Kylo again, but by that time, much had changed in her life to make her bitterly regret sending him away to begin with...
