Rey, initially believed to be a “nobody,” is revealed as the granddaughter of Emperor Palpatine through his failed clone son, Dathan. Though born from darkness, Rey’s path is one of resistance and redemption. She rejects the Sith legacy, defeats her grandfather, and reclaims her destiny by forging her own identity—ultimately choosing the Skywalker name as a symbol of hope.
For years, Star Wars fans debated one of the sequel trilogy’s biggest mysteries: how is Rey related to Palpatine?
The answer, revealed in Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker, rewrote much of what we thought we knew. Rey is the granddaughter of Emperor Palpatine, also known as Darth Sidious or Sheev Palpatine—not through a traditional lineage, but through a failed clone named Dathan, Rey’s father.
Engineered by Sith cultists on Exegol, Dathan lacked Force sensitivity, yet passed on Palpatine blood that the Sith believed could be the key to galactic domination.
In many ways, Rey’s arc mirrors the weight of Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader, or even the secrets behind Obi-Wan Kenobi and the Clone Wars. And yet, where others were shaped by legacy, Rey was defined by her choice. From her early days on Jakku scavenging parts from Unkar Plutt, to her connection with Kylo Ren, the character’s evolution captured the spirit of the Jedi, and her use of Jedi weapons like the lightsaber, without the endorsement of the Jedi Order.
With guidance from Leia Organa, and the shadow of Darth Plagueis lingering over Palpatine’s obsession with immortality, Rey’s story—crafted by J.J. Abrams and portrayed by Daisy Ridley—ultimately asked a deeper question: does blood define destiny, or can the Force write a new legacy?
Palpatine’s obsession with cheating death didn’t end with his fall in Return of the Jedi. After transferring his consciousness into a cloned body, he quickly discovered that even his own genetic material wasn’t stable enough to hold his vast Sith power.
So began a series of cloning experiments carried out by the Sith Eternal cult in the shadowy depths of Exegol.
These attempts produced strandcasts—genetic replicas that varied in strength and success. Among them was Dathan, a clone who lacked Force sensitivity and was considered a failure by Palpatine. But Sidious, always the strategist, allowed Dathan to live, seeing in him the potential for something greater down the line.
In typical Sith fashion, this wasn’t mercy—it was a calculated gamble, and one that would have unforeseen consequences.
Rey’s father, Dathan, was not Palpatine’s son in the traditional sense but rather a clone derived from his genetic material.
Designed to be a vessel for the Emperor’s essence, Dathan lacked the Force potential necessary to carry out this purpose. In Palpatine’s eyes, he was a flawed prototype—“a useless, powerless failure,” as later texts would describe him. And yet, rather than destroy him, Palpatine allowed Dathan to escape.
This wasn’t oversight; it was contingency. The Sith Lord theorized that Dathan’s bloodline might yet yield a more suitable host. That hunch proved accurate when Dathan and his partner Miramir gave birth to Rey.
Though viewed as disposable, Dathan inadvertently became the father of the one being Palpatine believed could finally complete his quest for galactic dominance—until she became the instrument of his ultimate defeat.
Rey’s lineage is as layered as it is fraught. Born of a failed clone and raised without knowledge of her origins, her journey mirrors many classic Star Wars arcs—except hers moves in reverse. Instead of discovering that she came from nobility or greatness, Rey began in obscurity and only later learned of her blood ties to darkness. The implications are profound.
Unlike Luke, whose lineage gave him hope and legacy, Rey’s discovery offered power laced with corruption.
Her parents, Dathan and Miramir, understood the gravity of her heritage. They sacrificed their lives to protect her, keeping her hidden from the very force that created her. In doing so, they didn’t just preserve her life—they gave her the space to define her identity.
Rey is a Palpatine by blood, but her spirit—her choices—are entirely her own.
For Palpatine, Rey was never simply a granddaughter—she was an heir, a vessel, and ultimately a pawn in his twisted endgame. In his final gambit, Palpatine did not seek an apprentice in the traditional Sith sense.
He wanted to perform a dark ritual that would transfer his essence into Rey’s body, allowing him to live on in a form both powerful and untainted. By the time of the Battle of Exegol, his Final Order was ready, and Rey was central to it all. In his view, her blood made her destiny unavoidable.
He offered her the galaxy, a throne, even a crown—disguising his parasitic ambition as familial inheritance. But Rey, with help from Ben Solo and the strength of the Jedi who came before, refused. In rejecting him, she turned his grand plan into his final failure.
Before Rey could confront Palpatine, she had to face another reflection of herself: Kylo Ren. The tension between them—two Force-sensitive beings shaped by legacies they didn’t choose—was always at the heart of their story.
Their confrontation was not just physical but philosophical. Kylo, born Ben Solo, knew what it meant to be both heir and rebel. Rey, learning she was a Palpatine, finally understood his torment. But where Kylo initially succumbed to the darkness, Rey resisted. In their duels and dialogues, the weight of legacy was laid bare.
Each represented a different path: one forged in darkness trying to reach the light, and one tempted by power but anchored in compassion. In the end, their alliance was forged not in shared bloodlines but in shared choice—a rejection of what they were told they must become.
By the end of the Star Wars sequel trilogy, Rey had faced the truth of her parentage, resisted the pull of the dark side, and redefined what it meant to be a powerful Jedi.
Though the name Rey Palpatine was never spoken aloud, its implication hung heavy over every confrontation with Kylo Ren, every vision of darkness, and every echo of Darth Sidious’s Final Order.
Yet, in choosing the Skywalker name, Rey did more than reject her origins—she honored the legacy of Luke, Leia, and the Jedi who came before. The very lightsaber once wielded by Anakin Skywalker became a symbol not of Palpatine’s clone experiments or Episode III’s fall of the Jedi, but of hope reborn.
For George Lucas and later J.J. Abrams, this passing of the torch was never just about lineage. It was about character, choice, and the enduring struggle between shadow and light.
Whether she’s training future Jedi or standing alone beneath Tatooine’s twin suns, Rey Skywalker now exists as a testament to redemption, resilience, and the idea that even those born of darkness can shine brighter than any star.
