I
Father,
It looks like the war has subsided…for now. This is the first time in the past month since I left that it's been quiet all night.
When I got up today, the sun made the sky look red. For a second, I was worried that the First Order had attacked again. So far, I'm safe with them.
The last time I went out, the Stormtroopers still wound up destroying two of the vendor's ships in the outpost. Nothing is like it was when we were still with the Rebels - the Alliance argues over everything that's happened, but I've watched it all unfold. You witnessed the Emperor take over the galaxy. I've watched what remains destroy galaxies upon galaxies. And now, I've watched as the First Order's leadership has turned into a dictatorship.
I'm going back to the trading post today. I heard rumors of rebel X-Wings near there. Maybe Finn is still alive…or your friends. It's a long shot, but if I can find any of them, maybe we can find those plans and finish this war.
Miss you, dad…
-Rey
The typed hologram that bore the note was suddenly shut down and shoved back into her pant pocket. It contained several similar letters, all addressed to the same person. They would never leave her side.
A small girl with her hair pulled back in three tight buns was reluctant to release the letters into her clothing. The collection almost depressed her; she knew her father would never receive them, even if she sent them.
When the Senate crumbled at the hands of Emperor Palpatine so many standard years ago, the galaxy had many opinionated responses. A civil war broke out, leaving two sides to support: the Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Empire.
In the beginning, the remaining Senate remained in favor of the Empire. However, the Alliance did not agree, and began an attempt to drive out the Imperials. During the mess, the Alliance pulled conflicted members from the Senate to operate as undercover agents on missions to help destroy the Empire. Once most who looked down on the Jedi approved of their leadership, the Emperor and his apprentice, Darth Vader, had began the construction of the Death Star, a weapon hidden in the shape of a barren moon. The Death Star easily annihilated any planet that chose to defy it; it would be their best chance at controlling the galaxy.
Everything seemed like a threat toward anyone who knew the location of the Alliance. Word spread that they were hiding on the populated planet of Alderaan, but when Vader seized it, he never found the hidden rebel base. Instead, the Empire's solution was to remove the planet in an attempt to destroy the Rebellion once and for all.
Eventually, the Alliance, with the help of the last Jedi, had taken out the Empire. It took several years, but peace was once again restored to the galaxy…on a small scale, at least until the First Order began to populate in the aftermath of the Empire's demise. Most had transitioned into members of the Alliance as they gained territory in the outer rim, taking the least effected parts of the galaxy under their wing. However, as time passed, those still in denial banded together, and became a new entity using the leftovers of the Empire's resources – they became known as the First Order, lead by a hidden entity who's power stretched beyond Lord Vader or his Master. Because of this, the young girl was not eager to leave her home planet of Jakku. Naturally, the planet still seemed like the perfect place to call home for the young girl and her letters, so she waited for the galaxy to spiral out of its turmoil once more. As the only remaining member of her family of the planet, she could not support them.
As though it were her fault, she also began getting targeted. Young Rey, only seventeen at the time of the initial invasion, was forced to start her life over. After the new version of the Death Star, Starkiller Base, was planned and mapped out and construction began, she made the decision to avoid such a harassment and went to just Rey, dropping her last name. She could continue hopping systems, but eventually, someone would recognize her. A new life somewhere almost remote was her best shot, and after all, dad had always said the galaxy was built on farmers and pilots.
Finally snapping out of her trance, the now ninteteen year old stood and broke eye contact with the wall she had been staring at. She always remembered the history she was taught her while she was growing up, but never thought she would be part of it. Taking a breath, she turned towards the window to gaze at the sunrise coming over the horizon. It now glowed orange and yellow, and made the land look like a pink lemonade.
Lemonade, Rey decided. Not destruction, just lemonade. Somehow, that helped.
She would need to eat something before she headed out to start her day, but after writing that letter, she had lost her appetite. Deciding to skip breakfast, she began heading towards the fields behind the decrepit AT-AT. Readying the baggage for her trip might get her a head start on things.
Once she rounded the side of the house, Rey's heart sunk. In the distance, smoke rose from the ground, traveling up into the air. Stunned, she felt her fears begin to become a reality. The scene hinted at a fire, just as she had mentioned in her letter, only the air was tinted gray instead of red covering the sun that was continuing to rise.
Immediately, Rey assumed the First Order was doing a sweep; they usually did one every season just to "make sure the residents were adhering to the law". In reality, the sweeps were more like raids. They turned up the ground and destroyed resources. Rey had it figured out, though – they wanted to make sure no one became powerful enough to overturn them.
She sprinted for the horizon, remembering her training when she was younger. She belted out a "Hey!" once, attempting to warn whoever was attacking her scavenging spot in the distance. Then, she realized what had happened.
The sandstorm that had come through the night before had somehow ignited the broken down electrical boards of the junkyard weapons. Dull flames were becoming more and more visible against the dusty metal.
Rey called out a name, awaiting her companion's arrival. "BB-8!"
Out of the storage hut came an orange and white droid. It was quick, allowing it to scan the area and almost instantly meet Rey's side. Thankfully, it was small, and was able to fit into tiny shade patches and tight spaces easily to cool off in the bright desert fields. Today, a series of beeps and boops howled form it's body - a sign that it sensed something was wrong.
Rey watched as the machine slowed to a stop at her side. "Looks like we're heading out early," she told him.
A dramatic whistle came from BB-8 as though he understood and Rey sighed.
"Come on, let's get there before sundown," she decided. The droid beeped again, arguing the situation, and making Rey feel worse. Not only was her home being destroyed, but her companion was suffering the effects of living under the First Order, as well. "You're fit enough!" she retorted, hoping to put a humorous argument up front to distract them from wanting to eat. "I haven't eaten anything, either."
Rey began to head towards the fields ahead of them. There was little she could do about the fire – it would stop on its own once the flames reached the outskirts. But before it destroyed her pickings completely, she could at least salvage what was left in an attempt to make some kind of profit at the trading post.
Once the bags were packed full of power converters and hyper drive components and anything else she had come up with in her searches and were strapped down over her shoulders and across her infamous staff, Rey whistled for BB-8 to accompany her on their trek down the dusty road and into town. The trading post was located near the Niima outpost, the closest bustling area. It wasn't far from where her makeshift home was located, if she had transportation, but for those who didn't support the First Order, speeders were rarer than fuel. It was okay, though; Rey was used to walking, even if it did take several hours to reach the city.
The Niima outpost was more of a deserted waste land more than a city, but very few parts of the planet resembled a true city, anyway. The weather didn't help keep things in pristine shape, either. The constant ranging sandstorms and hot, humid temperatures took their toll on manmade structures. Now, all that was left of the location were a few empty shops and crumbled up huts buildings lying on the dry ground of what once was an up and coming bargaining corner.
By the time Rey and BB-8 reached the last sign on the pathway into the post, which was now painted over with directions to the "drop" instead of the "trading post" due to the lack of profit that was given out as of late, the sun beat down strong. It was a hot summer's day in mid-season, and the heat was unbearable. One of the bags full of her findings was dragging behind Rey; it was easier for her to pull than carry after the first ten miles. The last two were the final lap – the point where she would see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Rey only hoped she would make it home with a decent profit. If she received credits, she would put most away towards her effort to locate her father, and the rest would go towards food. If she traded for parts, she would use them to build weapons more advanced than her 'stick', as the other citizens referred to it, for the times she had to go on search and raid missions to collect supplies.
Slowly, the girl wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. Dirt and sweat smeared across her skin, but she expected nothing less. The clothes she wore were stained with dirt and sweat as well – it was the proof that she had lived instead of hiding for the past few years. Her beige pants bore holes along the knees and her boots were worn so thin they barely had a sole. Rey gazed up at the sign, squinting from the bright sunlight on her eyes.
"We better hurry if we want to get there before the storms start," she mentioned to her sidekick.
The girl glanced up at the sky – still blue and empty. She expected rain, since there had been none for several days, but she could be wrong. Either way, she wanted to get home before weather came through of the sun went down.
They began their walk again, heading towards the post on the last two miles of their journey. If they got there in time, the selection would be prime; most vendors arrived in the afternoon around 14:00.
Then, a rumble sounded behind the two as an approaching vehicle advanced in their direction. Dust clouded up the air as the dirt road was turned up from the big triangular tires. It was a group of Jawas – an old transport from the Rebellion era.
As it neared, Rey could tell the red paint was faded and worn from the sun. It must be a farm line, Rey figured. The bigger farms traded up for droids, or found the parts to build their own. It was a project, but everything was. People had to go back to working for their belongings instead of buying them like they used to. For a moment, Rey was thankful that she had stumbled upon BB-8 before they could get their grimy paws on him.
The transport slowed to pass them. Rey waved BB-8 to the side of the road with her, getting out of its way. As it passed, she saw the opportunity instantly. The back of the transport was lined with metal grating, holding in the loading ramps. She could see metal arms moving around inside from the cracks.
Great. Coherent droids. Annie loved her companion, but she was not a big droid fan overall. It had taken her several weeks to allow BB-8 to stay in her storage hut; when he first arrived, the girl tried to shoo him out of the shelter, but once she realized he had nowhere else to go, Annie realized they were actually very similar.
Thankfully, she knew the farm line from trades she had made in the past. Swallowing her pride, the girl began to sprint full speed after the moving transport. She was light enough to hitch a ride without being caught, and the metal hunks tumbling around on the back were the perfect disguise for BB-8's weight
Rey leapt onto the back, grabbing onto the side of the door hinges so she wouldn't pull the hatch down and let the collection loose. Surely then, she would be noticed. She leaned down low to the back bumper of the vehicle, attempting to keep herself out of view. She tucked her staff behind her and then waved her hand and raised her eyebrows, allowing her facial expression to invite the droid, who was now fading into view, up onto the back of the transport as well. He could brace himself between the tire wells until they arrived.
"Come on, BB-8!" Rey hissed quietly, waving desperately. "Let's go!"
The droid obeyed the command, beginning to roll to catch up to the vehicle. He was agile and was able to easily jump the height of the tires and clear them with no trouble. BB-8 landed in the middle of the metal walls, bracing himself with two long limbs that extended from the circular body. Then, the echoed mumbles of a human-cyborg relation droid from inside the carrier began questioning the outside noises of their hop on.
"Shut that thing up or we're gonna get caught!" Rey warned as she peered through the fencing and watched BB-8 turn his head away from her, sulking. "Just keep 'em quiet and we'll get there in half the time."
As she spoke, the transport drove wildly down the road, racing to get to the trading post to set up. It hit a deep hole in the dirt – one of many – and sent Rey's body bouncing down. The hard blow to the transport caused her arms to ache. It was tough holding on and crouching below the bumper as it was, but it still beat walking.
Eventually, as Rey's arms began to feel weak from being thrust around, the transport pulled down a side lane to the right and into a small circle full of covered stands and wooden tables. Each was covered with supplies, food, or livestock. The trading post lay along the river just outside of the old Nimma city, standing crumbled, yet still tall, in the background. It looked vacant from where they stood, but even Rey knew the cities had turned into the salvage yards of the country - all of the pickpockets and scavengers resided there, trying to pick up what they could in the ruins, even though it had been years since they were vacated.
Compared to the city, the trading post was buzzing with activity. As the truck slowed, Rey watched a man at one table attempt to toss an ear of corn into his inside coat pocket, only to be caught by the vendor as he tried to stealthily sneak away. Next to them, a woman had a bunch of clothes spread out across her table – hand made, and definitely not the kinds you would pick up out of old abandoned stores.
Before the truck turned to park, Rey slapped the metal lining lightly to let her friend know she was abandoning ship. She fell lightly on her feet, her right hand balancing herself on the ground when she landed and used the staff in her other hand to balance herself. Moments later, she looked up to see BB-8 attempting to propel out of the wheel well, but the transport took a sharp turn behind one empty tent to park and sent the droid's body off balance, prohibiting his escape.
Rey looked around urgently, checking to see if anyone had observed her entrance. If not, they were about to; a noisy orange and white droid in the middle of a Jawa transport would not go unnoticed.
She held tight onto her bags, making sure no one could easily grasp them and escape into the flat Jakku landscape - this would be her only food for the next week. Then, the girl slid under one canopy, attempting to sneak through the crowd. The table nauseated her – it was covered in fresh fish, caught that morning or the night before. A fly buzzed around her head. Swatting at it, Rey proceeded to the next canopy, tiptoeing through the group of people bartering at the table for blaster accessories. Had she had enough credit, she would have invested in a blaster long ago. Unfortunately, that was not in the question.
Thinking about her weapon choice, she instinctively reached behind her hip for the small knife that she kept tucked under her belt for defensive situations like this. She knew the transport would be unhappy about the droid in their delivery, and she would need to worm her way out of it without being noticed.
When Rey was younger, her family had made her take self defense classes. It was the best way to keep her safe while she was away at training. With a family as popular as hers once was, her parents feared one day she might be picked on for being their only daughter, regardless of how protected of a location they took her to. Since the fall out, weapons were scarce, so she trained herself how to wield small objects, like her box knife. Tossing was still tough for her to grasp, but she was able to handle it well in close range. She remembered some of the training her father had her go through with him early on, but only remembered enough to wield her staff at her current age.
Finally, the girl reached the end of the set up and pressed her back up against the tent fabric that was covering the last table. The makeshift walls blew gently in the wind, whipping back and forth against the dusty ground. She inhaled, held it, and focused on her plan. The bag of parts lay between her feet on the ground. She stared at it, wondering if it would be okay if she left it for a moment. Ultimately, this was a choice between her friend and her income, and both were as important as life to her.
After what seemed like several days, Rey finally heard the squeak of metal on metal as the back hatch to the transport was pulled open. She heard the bounce of the metal door as it fell open against the back bumper. Then, she waited helplessly for the warning chirps of the droid. She expected to hear the yells of the Jawas as they confronted BB-8, and envisioned his top spinning about as he tried to avoid their stabs. Preparing to act, she tightened her grip on the knife and turned her head in the direction the noises were coming from, readying herself.
"Miss?"
She jumped. Rey whipped her head back behind the canopy and stared straight ahead of her. She was not expecting the interruption.
Standing in front of her was a small man holding out his hands. In the open palms lay a few credits made from copper. He was offering her to trade for her parts – willing to buy a few metal scraps off of her to support his own family.
Rey continued to stare, speechless. Her mind was still with the Jawa's transport, but her body was bartering with the customer in front of her. Suddenly, she remembered she was clenching onto the knife in her belt and let go; the last thing she wanted was to start a battle with the customers at the post, and she didn't want to scare the man off, either.
She pressed her lips to speak, but kept thinking about BB-8. Right now, she was more important. What he offered was enough for maybe two bolts; she had over twenty, but was hoping to trade for something more substantial.
When she realized the man was not going to go away until she answered, she reached down and grabbed four pieces from her bag and shoved them into his chest.
"Leave it on the table," she instructed halfheartedly.
He didn't object. The change was thrown down quickly and he scampered away without question. Rey felt bad; she knew she had a harsh tone to her voice, but hoped she hadn't scared off her customer like she feared. She blinked and picked up the credits, inspecting them closely. She wasn't usually so spaced out that she didn't value whatever money she could earn, but with her mind still on the situation that was out of her hands, money was a side thought.
She reached down to toss the credits in her shoe – it was the safest place to keep her change to ensure nothing got stolen. If she tucked it somewhere close to her body, she could store it until she returned home to count it all up. As she slipped it under her foot, she felt a nudge from behind that almost knocked her forward with the power of its momentum.
Instinctively, Rey caught her balance with one hand and her staff and pushed up so she could spin around to face whatever had shoved her. She reached for the knife once more with her right hand and grabbed onto her bags with her left.
"BB-8!" she exclaimed, surprised to see the orange and white droid pulling himself out from under the canopy. He must have escaped before the Jawas entered the loading ramp and hid under the vehicle until they had left – he had come from where the transport was parked, but Rey had never heard anything from the droids on the transport. She released the knife. "You could've been hurt! Are you crazy?!"
The droid stuck out a small flame from his belly, giving her an image of a thumbs up. It was growing hotter and hotter with every passing second, and Rey knew there were more important things to do than argue with her companion now that she had been safely returned to her side.
Finally, Rey relaxed and dusted off her knees from their arrival. Then, she grabbed one bag and swung it over her shoulder. She dragged the other behind her as she had on the dirt roads into the post; it was now a tad bit lighter due to the few bolts and metal sheets the man had just purchased from her.
She glanced around nervously, as though the bustling people trading and conversing around her had witnessed her sneaking around the canopy of the table which wasn't hers. No one seemed to have noticed. She sighed and nodded her head towards the center of the post in the sunlight, inviting her friend to accompany her to begin their trades for the day.
"Come on," she beckoned. "Let's get this over with so we get home before dark."
BB-8 was still trying to recharge, but he picked himself up off the ground and followed willingly, staying loyal to his owner. They drug their supply through the tables, admiring the displays the other vendors had brought. Rey didn't like staying at a table; she preferred walking around and making her own offers. She tended to sell out faster that way, which meant she was almost assured that she would bring home what she expected to as long as no one cheated her out of product.
Her droid wove in and out of the covered tables, trying his best to stay out of the direct sunlight. He served no purpose other than a small protective unit for Rey, so he needed to stay cool while he could in case anything did happen to occur. He edged between his owner and the stands, making sure he was the hidden barrier between them.
At first, they decided to pass up the table selling firewood and raw meat. The vendors were obviously hunters and came from the small forest coated areas of the planet that still existed. They coated the meat in salt like they used to before electricity – and now, after. But food was the last thing on her mind. Although it looked delicious, Rey was able to feed herself as a vegetarian for the summer; the food she got from her sales was enough for her meals. The meat would definitely appeal to her in the winter, when it got too cold to keep ready-made food, but for now, she had to keep it simple. Anything she could pack into her bags once they were empty would be the best trade.
A man at the table with the meat taunted her to buy his product. He waved over the table with a handle, trying to catch her attention. Rey glance at him, but didn't turn her head towards the table. If she showed interest, she might become too hungry and give in. That was exactly what he wanted.
"You need to put on a few pounds!" he shouted from across the table as she passed. "A girl your size, you ought to be careful around here!"
Rey wanted to defend herself against the older man's words, but when she glanced in his direction, his wrinkled green facial features and big framed glasses contradicted the threatening appeal he tried to give off - it wasn't worth her effort. If she did get into an argument, she would draw attention to herself, which pushed her decision to walk on further. The last thing she wanted was to have someone discover her identity after keeping herself on the low down for so long.
But her wants weren't priority. The man persisted. "You come into this place every week, and never have you bought a single thing from me!" he cried out, grabbing the attention of fellow shoppers around his table.
Her head whipped towards him, finally responding. She didn't need words; the glare she shot him was enough to silence him. Plus, when she reached around to her staff for her weapon of choice, the vendor decided to lift his hands in surrender and took a step back, admitting defeat. He didn't want a fight, he wanted a trade.
"Winter," she told him crisply. "When it gets cold, I'll buy from you."
He nodded in agreement and patiently waited for her to pass by. She made a mental note to time their stay and get out of the post as quickly as possible; it was a common rule to not draw weapons unless in defense. And as far as anyone had seen, she had nothing to defend herself from. If any of the others had noticed her instinctive decision to reunite herself with her weapon as an attack, they would easily alert the First Order. If they caught her for any violation, not matter how minor it was, she was done for. The hunt for the remaining members of her family was still strong, no matter how much time had passed since she and her father had hidden themselves.
"Ten minutes," she whispered to the ground by her feet where she knew her droid was running. "Ten minutes, and then we're out. We can't risk this."
Despite the thoughts swirling through her head, Rey moved on. Next to the meat was a table full of sewn items. A lot of vendors began selling clothing and blankets after the stores had been raided. It was the easiest thing to produce after crops from a farm. She liked the idea of providing for herself as well as others, which is why she stuck to bringing corn. Plus, she tended to use her clothes until they were no longer wearable.
Glancing down at her shoes and their gaping holes spotting the thin fabric that remained holding them together, Rey decided she should check out the vendor just in case she would be willing to trade with her for something new. It was a long shot, since a new pair of shoes would have her giving over more than half her crop for the week, but it was necessary.
She slowed to a halt before the vendor, her eyes scanning over the navy blues and burgundy reds that covered the table top. From the ceiling, shirts hung on display, matching the jackets and jeans beneath them. Under the table was an array of boots, all made from brown material that probably came from a raided shop. It was thick, and probably would withstand a good year's worth of walks before she would have to buy a new pair, which was shorter than the current boots Rey relied on – it was better than nothing, though.
"Looks like you could use something new to walk in," the lady behind the desk observed as she approached Rey, who was still analyzing the display.
The girl looked up to a short, stout woman, who had a few extra pounds than she should on her. Rey didn't reprimand her for it – it was nice to see someone living healthy for once instead of the skin and bones that had been walking around as of late. Her hair was pulled back in a messy, gray bun: an attempt at keeping cool. She looked as though she could use her own set of new clothes, but credit was scarce. It made sense that she would rather sell product than keep it for herself.
Rey faked a smile for the woman, hoping she wasn't that easy to read. "What do you have?" she asked, although it was obvious. If she forced a relationship with this lady, she might cut a deal on price.
She picked up a pair of dark brown boots that were meant to resemble sand proof boots, with a tight calf and tall legs – they were too familiar to Rey. "Heavy duty fabric, made out of an old Rebel jacket I found lying around."
Rey frowned. She didn't need anything too fancy – it would get worn down anyway. She glanced down at her own two feet as the vendor read her mind.
"Maybe something a little thicker?" she offered, motioning towards a pair of short combat boots that she had obviously stolen from the Alliance or military base for the Empire at some point. "More stable. Well put together, like you."
She took the compliment, even though it sounded more like a warning in her head. Below her, the boots sat under the table. They were dark with laces up the front; Rey wondered how well they would hold if she tore the laces, but they were definitely better than the pieces of fabric she currently wore around her feet.
Making up her mind, she turned her face back towards the lady offering them up and nodded stoutly. "What do you want for them?"
A grin resembling the late Emperor spread across her face – she could demand any value she wanted. She had Rey pinned, and she knew it. "Seventy."
"Seventy?!" Rey repeated the disbelief clear in her voice. "I'll hardly get that on this bag of converters alone!"
"Look, girl," the woman jabbed, setting the boots back down on the ground next to Rey's pick. "I don't want a hard time. It's either seventy or nothing."
Sighing, she reached for her shoe to pull out the credits the man had just given her for her bolts. It wasn't enough, but maybe she could trade her some parts, as well.
"I only have thirty," she told the woman.
"Seventy."
Rey wanted to snap something back at her, but was caught off guard by the empty sole of her shoe where the credits should have been. She felt her heart begin to race as she realized the payment was long lost. As her pulse began to pound in her head, she stared back at the woman. The only way out she had was to trade her product.
"I don't have it." She spoke low as though to keep it hushed that she wasn't carrying the credits.
The woman snorted in defiance. "Don't have it?"
"Will you trade?" Rey offered, making an on the spot decision to give her what she had left. If she couldn't carry money in her shoes anymore, she did need new ones. Otherwise, whatever she made today would not make it safely home with her. She pulled an old, rusty power converter out of her bag and held it straight out to the woman, begging her to take it with a desperate look in her eyes. "The rest of this bag." Then, she pleaded with her. "Please?" she asked, trying to get her to cave.
The woman folded her arms and denied the ear. "Your scrap metal is hardly worth one of these shoes alone."
"Only one?!" Rey cried. She was stunned at the arrogance of the lady who had just been too kind to her while she was browsing. "This is enough to power an entire TIE-fighter if you wanted to." It was true, but Rey did make a mental note about her obvious lack of piloting intelligence.
"Quality like this is hard to come by."
"Quality?" she bickered. "You haven't even made these! They're straight out of the Alliance's stock."
The nameless woman stared at her intently. The last words had stung her hard, attacking something that deeply bothered her without the younger girl realizing it. "Alliance? Where do you think we are, child?"
Rey's inner anger fueled up. She knew she looked young, but nineteen was hardly young for anyone anymore. With people not able to fend off the attacks or sickness as easily as they used to, nineteen was a good age to be. She was tough, she was fit, and she was strong. She had the energy to keep up with life, and to make sure she and BB-8 made it through each day. 'Child' was not a word she wanted used to describe her. She squinted her eyes in rage, glaring a sharp stare at the woman in front of her. She no longer wanted the boots.
"I thought we were at a post. For trading."
The vendor went on. "You know as well as I do that no one here wants to trade," she snapped. "Credit is what makes the world go 'round. It was true before, and it's still true, now."
There was no arguing her point – she was right. Credit was especially valuable now, since it was the only form of order left in the country. No one knew if it was still backed by anything – they just knew that other people wanted it. It was kind of a collection…the more you had, the more you got, just on faith.
"They're hardly worth thirty credits, even if I had it…" Rey muttered under her breath, determined to make her opinion known.
She turned to walk to the next table in hopes of finding something else to satisfy her needs, but the woman grabbed her arm and prevented her from leaving her display.
"You better watch it, girl, or you'll be hunted down just like those Jedi were," she whispered.
The young girl felt a shiver go down her spine at the piercing threat. A gleam in the woman's eye warned Rey that she may have recognized her, but she wasn't sure, so it was best to play it safe. If she let herself look scared, she would appear weak and would surely be found out.
From her feet, BB-8 took a defensive stance. With his zapper of an arm shown and is top pointed outward, he began howling at the woman who placed her hand on her owner. It was enough to panic the vendor, who released Rey, but stared daggers into the droid on the ground.
"You know damn well we don't want those kind here!" the woman spat, waving her arm in BB-8's face in an attempt to shoo him away.
"He's a droid!" Suddenly, Rey spoke with authority. She reached for her belt and felt for the knife handle, ready once again to pull it. It would do more damage than her staff in close range.
Then, a hand landed on the same shoulder, as though trying to convince her that pulling the weapon was a bad idea. For a moment, Rey debated the best route of defense. If the person behind her had intended to attack, surely they would have done so already. Instead of whipping around to confront them and turn her back on the aggressive vendor, she kept her body still.
The voice of the hand spoke.
"Everything okay here?"
It was a man.
Rey turned her head toward him to find out who had interrupted them. Standing behind her was someone who had to be a few years older than her, at least. If she had to guess, she would put him at about twenty-five. The long, black hair that met his defined jaw line probably tacked a few years on to his appearance, but she understood; the older you looked, the less you'd be taken advantage of. Making a mental note not to mock him for his choice of clothing in the heat, as he stood in dark brown and gold work pants and a tucked in, dirty, beige shirt, Rey gulped and shrugged his hand off of her.
"Fine," she replied shortly. She intended on making it known that she and BB-8 worked alone.
The man's dark eyes danced with amusement as she watched her silently fume in annoyance. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and rolled back onto his heels as he gazed over the table in front of him.
"You want seventy for these?" he asked the vendor kindly as he nodded at Rey's choice in shoes, hoping to break the tension that filled the canopy covered area.
She turned to him, shooting a shocked glare his way. Still, Rey remained silent. She had been ready to walk away, if the woman would stop harassing her. Had he really just offered to buy the only thing she was interested in? Out of curiosity, she glanced down at his feet; rounded toes of piloting boots poked out from under his long pant legs. There was no way he was buying them for himself with the quality pair of his own that he wore.
She watched intently as the tall man pulled out a beaten wallet from his back pocket and fiddled around in its contents until he drew up enough credits for the boots. As he handed it over to the woman, who was wide-eyed at the fact that someone had been foolish enough to pay her the inflated amount, he kept his gaze on Rey, obviously awaiting her reaction.
The man accepted the boots by grabbing them from the vendor's display. Then, he handed them to the girl he towered over, offering them to her in a manner of gifting that was rare since the country had split apart.
His deep voice sounded too inviting. "I believe these are yours."
Furious and the most suspicious she had been that day, Rey turned her nose up at the offer and turned away from the vendor's table, dragging her full bag of parts on the ground behind her.
"Hey, wait a minute!" the man called, dropping the boots to his side. He followed her into the open space full of frantic people in the center of the post. "When a nice guy buys you something, you should accept."
She turned and shot daggers at him with her eyes. The cocky tone in his voice made her burn inside – she hated people who thought too highly of themselves. "I don't need your gifts," she told him with a forced kindness.
"You do when you can't afford these on your own dime!" His brow furrowed together in frustration, but he didn't let any other proof show. Instead, the man studied her face for any sign of thanks.
Rey was fuming. "I have shoes."
"Is that what you call those?" the man said without missing a beat. He raised an eyebrow, and then smiled a cheeky, crooked smile, as his upper lip curled to reveal his white teeth.
Just as soon as he made the snide remark, a loud rumbling noise echoed over the shallow valley from somewhere in the air. The long wings of an Imperial transport became visible from the distance, sending alarm through Rey's body. Then, two more appeared behind it. The man turned to look behind him, following her wide-eyed stare into the sky. For a moment, they hesitated. Then, a whimper from BB-8 while Rey was shoved by another shopper trying to flee the area brought them back to reality.
"Looks like we have company," the man told her in disgust. He was anticipating the battle she knew was about to unfold.
"Keep the shoes," she told him briefly. Then, she turned to head back toward the dirt road she had taken to arrive at the post. If she left now, they may have enough time to escape and pack up at home before the First Order swept through.
"Hang on a sec!" He was more concerned about the boots than he was the invasion that was moments from happening.
The man followed her through the suddenly alarmed sea of merchants and customers, weaving his way through them the best he could to track down her ragged top. As if on cue, the rest of the post's population had also sensed the danger in the approaching units. Those who didn't get out before they landed would surely by detained and sent back to the First Order and searched.
He tugged at her shoulder and tried to stop her and turn her to face him, but she refused.
Calling behind her, Rey ordered him to leave her alone. "Stop following me and get out of here!"
Her cold tone did not faze him. "I can take care of myself!"
As he spoke, a lady ran past Rey carrying a handful of blasters silencers, racing away to take cover under a canopy that had fallen in the whipping winds of the dropping transports. She shoved into the girl, pushing between her and her panicked droid. In result, Rey fell slightly backward, but kept her footing, thanks to her follower.
The man steadied her before she could tumble to the ground. "Obviously, you can't."
Then, the loud stomping of an army of maybe twenty units became prevalent, distracting both people. Annie didn't bother shrugging his hand off of her shoulder; instead, they both gazed in terror upon the sudden chaos that raged through the trading post. The First Order had landed.
Rey stood, suddenly remembering the moments of terror in her head of when she was separated from her father as she watched the units dressed in white armor enter the area. She remembered how she had watched the riots on the holograms of Coruscant, Endor, and Tatooine once a price was unofficially set on his head for his past. She remembered fleeing their old home on the other side of the planet in order to save herself after realizing he was never coming home. She remembered when she had first witnessed the power of the new military's sleek, black blaster barrels when they invaded before. Still, those thoughts haunted her every time she was reminded of how the galaxy got to such a place. They caused her to freeze up, even in moments of urgency. For a moment, she forgot what they would do to her if they caught her.
"This way," the man decided when he realized she wasn't going to move on her own. "Come on!"
Once he broke into her moment of weakness, she agreed to allow him to drag her, hand in hand, through the crowd of people. Rey was overwhelmed by all that had happened in just a few minutes, but began to get her confidence back. She whistled to her companion to follow them, making sure she didn't desert her. She watched as the orange and white droid wove through the tangled up mess of legs and stomping feet as people fled in any direction.
Being taller than her aided the man as he pushed through the bustling open land and behind the last covered table in the row. He whipped Rey behind the canopy and knelt down next to her, back facing the scene inside of the post.
"What are you doing?" she snapped. She could hear the shouts from the Stormtroopers – they only had a few minutes to spare.
Lifting his pant leg above his knee, the man pulled a blaster pistol from the boot opening against his calf. "Protecting you," he told her as he smoothed out his bottoms again and stood straight.
Rey felt for BB-8 at her side as she watched him peer out from behind the brown canopy. He held the pistol in his right hand above his head, as if preparing to fire a warning shot. She knew he wouldn't be so stupid.
"I don't need protecting," she said coolly, going once again for her staff, as though the thin stick would be able to aid his firearm.
"Don't." He waved his hand in the air without turning to face her. Whatever was going on in the trading post was still keeping his attention.
She scowled at the back of his head, stunned by his arrogance. His dramatic attempt at saving the girl and her dog was going nowhere. If he wanted a show, she could help put on a show – they might just die in the production of it.
Then, a rough, gloved hand was placed on her own behind her back. Rey panicked for a moment as she realized the chill going through her shirt was from the barrel of the long-barreled blaster that the First Order owned. Then, words she had heard many time before whispered into her ear.
"Citizen, drop your weapon."
Citizen. She was a citizen, sure, but a citizen of the Senate, not of what had become of it. Rey despised the formality of everything – she didn't care to treat the First Order as anything with authority. They had appointed themselves.
Thankfully, the voice had been heard by the man who had their only real weapon. Using both hands, he held it in the direction of the Stormtrooper, forgetting the rest of the ongoing mess. The instant threat did not go over well with the member of the First Order; he took Rey as though she were hostage and pointed his own firearm at the man, ready to open fire. The pistol had the quicker shot, though, and the loud squeal of the shot leaving the barrel escaped into the air as the Stormtrooper tumbled to the ground.
Blinking furiously, Rey gazed at the man who had just saved her life. Sure, he had saved his as well, but he didn't know the value she represented for the First Order. Or maybe he did, and he was just going to deliver her to him himself. Either way, he had just bought her a little more life.
"Grab his blaster," he ordered when she didn't speak.
The girl hesitated, but then fumbled to pull the heavy weapon from the soldier's hands. A loud bang echoed around them as a shot was fired near their hiding spot. It sent a rush of adrenaline through Rey's body – the threat was now closer and on a whole different scale, thanks to the body of the dead Stormtrooper on the ground beside them, whose slick white armor was slowly starting to look stained from the amount of blood he was losing from his upper torso.
Her savior was impatient. "Come on, princess, we don't have time to play around, here." He looked out from behind the canopy and then back to Rey and her droid.
She looked at him in pure shock – did he know who she was? Finally, she freed the weapon from his hands. The man noticed her struggle to handle the weapon with her bag of scraps and made a quick decision to trade her – something he didn't do regularly.
"Here." He tossed her his pistol, causing her to drop the larger firearm, igniting the trigger as it hit the ground. Shots flew into the canopy behind them, thankfully avoiding anyone in their party.
He rolled his eyes, but picked up the weapon after it finished firing. "That's why they invented the safety lock…" he muttered under his breath. Then, with more direction and volume, "Safety's on the back, and I assume you know where the trigger is." It was a direct shot at her incompetence with the larger gun. "Don't set 'er to stun unless you want to drag these guys out with us. Don't waste your shot, and don't break her – that's the best shot I've got."
She inspected the pistol in her hand, trying to grasp the information he had just laid on her. Then, she gave a wild look to BB-8 at her side, letting her know she was completely lost with how to handle the situation. The droid whined.
The man nodded his head away from the trading post as he secured the firearm over his shoulder, indicating that it was time to move. After another loud bang occurred on the other side of their protective canopy, Rey regretfully did the same for BB-8 to follow. They hurried toward the road the best they could without being seen, but once she was a few steps away, she remembered the scrap metal bag, left by the canopy which was now being raided and torn apart but members of the new militia.
"My parts!" she gasped, turning as though it would be okay to make a run for it and retrieve it before they could capture her.
The man's strong grip stopped her once more. He refused to let her get back into the middle of it – anyone there would be subject to search and seizure and he wasn't ready to lose the weapons that normal people didn't get to easily keep.
"Are you nuts?!" he yelled into her face as he spun her to face him. "You'll get killed for having that pistol on you if you go back there. Maybe where you're from they don't care, but not those guys!"
She knew he was right. The parts would cost her a week's worth of meals, but going back would only assure her death. Still, she wasn't going to let him know it.
"Then take your blaster," she hissed, narrowing her eyes just as she did upon meeting the man.
He rolled his eyes, but tugged on her hand. "Come on. Ship's this way."
Ship? Rey wondered, hoping she had heard him right. If she and B-8 walked back, they would risk being caught if the First Order swept the area. The ship, on the other hand, would get them much further before the Stormtroopers even thought about finishing up in the trading post.
"You're lucky we live so far away," she muttered, agreeing to go with him.
"Lucky?" he huffed in disbelief. "I'm not sure you understand the word, sweetheart."
Rey decided it was best to ignore him. Instead, she shoved against his shoulder on her way by and called BB-8 to follow her. If he insisted on taking them home, she insisted on making him miserable. After all, she had told him she could fend for herself.