Through the heavy, oppressive heat of Jakku summer a slender silhouette emerged from the colossal mass of chrome embedded into the golden sand that stretched across the landscape as far as the eye could see. The ship had crashed over three decades ago, during the great battle between the empire and the rebellion group. Years ago, in times of peace the wreckage would be filled with children, their laughter echoing through the metallic skeleton, bringing it back to life as children leapt from platform to platform, swishing imaginary lightsabers as they battled great villains alongside the famous Luke Skywalker, the brave Han Solo and even the princess Laya Organa herself. The figure halted at the base of the wrecked ship, and tugged the bandages that protected her face from the invasive heat and dust. Rey's delecate face emerged from the rags, a slight smile playing across dry, cracked lips. She recalled always demanding to play the princess; brave and beautiful, Laya Organa had always been Rey's idol, the metaphorical mother to a young girl growing up in Jakku alone. Then again, metaphorical parents were little good when they weren't around to feed you. Shaking the remnants of her memories from her head, Rey began to haul her net of scrap metal from a days scavenging along the boiling ground, drawing a rough parting across the smooth surface of the sand. It had been over a decade of scavenging for Rey, as she waited for some sign of her families return. Every day the same, arduous process. She would travel across the sand some 20 miles from the main village for a days worth of scavenging for any scraps that might be worth a meal portion. Then she would polish and present it to the trades-master, a horrible, gluttonous creature who prospered it seemed solely on others poverty. Rey glanced back at her net of metal. It was slim pickings these days, with most of the ship having been cleared out years ago and only the odd compressor component or few metres of copper wire left. She had perhaps a half portion today, if the trades-master was in a good mood. Which he never is, thought Rey contemptuously. Better to resign herself now to the pangs of hunger she already felt in her stomach. As Rey began to unload her net onto the hover bike, she became aware of a shadow falling across her, offering relief from the burning rays of sun across her back. She frowned, turning to look upwards to the sky. There was no shade in Jakku, not here, out in the heart of the desert area. It was then that she saw it, her heart accelerating tenfold as the unmistakable underbelly of a first order ship glided overhead. Whatever this meant, it was not good news. Panic flashed across Rey's mind, but she quashed it quickly. Now was not the time for hysteria. She had two options; she could brave it out here overnight with the Sand-people. She could take cover in the wreckage, though she was out of water and had no provisions on her person. She didn't fancy the idea of death by dehydration or Sand-people. That left her with option two; returning to the village. She certainly was of no use to the first order, and as far as she was aware, she had done nothing to aggravate them. Return was her only option, as the sun was low in the sky now, painting the horizon with a desperate shade of orange. Rey loaded the last of her scraps onto the bike before swinging her leg over the saddle and revving the engine.
Kylo Ren stepped onto the sand of Jakku and instantly felt the wall of heat strike him. The heat perforated his mask, blurring his vision briefly. Kylo appreciated the heat, it took no heed of whom it struck, and eventually it exterminated anything that stood against it for long enough. As his vision returned, he glanced around, tilting his head ominously beneath his hood. One girl, a child was staring at him, mouth open wide in a small, delicate "o". Kylo disliked her instantly, her pervasive little blue eyes, staring at him, seeing him beneath his mask. He contemplated killing her, her parents stood behind her, father with his hand on the child's shoulder protectively. Kylo felt a pang of something unidentifiable. Something he did not quite understand, and knew he did not want to. He looked away sharply. This was merely a routine visit, to ensure no rebel forces had infiltrated the western regions. He had no time to waste slaughtering stupid little children and their peasant families. He would leave that to the storm troopers. His breath was heavy and audible through his mask, and Kylo suddenly became aware that it was not only the child whose eyes were fixed upon him, some 300 people stood, facing the ship, eyes fixed on Kylo. Straitening his back he strode forwards, addressing his storm troopers as the crowd parted swiftly to allow him passage,
"scan for any unregistered citizens. Search all the pilot-able ships and make sure nothing is untoward. If you hear the slightest whisper of the rebellion kill whomever speaks of them."
With this order, the troopers disbursed in an orderly fashion, marching away, their brilliant white armour reflecting the now shocking crimson of the setting sun. Kylo exhaled deeply, attempting to expel the heaviness of the heat pressing on his lungs. It was then that he heard a noise from behind, a heavy metallic whirring. A welcome breeze sent the edges of his robe dancing across his feet, and he whirled to face the source of the commotion. A figure, crouched in the seat of a red hover bike was dismounting behind the canvas of the old market stalls. Almost mummified in dirty rags that covered the entirety of the figure's face and body, a swift movement of the wrist revealed the face of a young woman, perhaps 20, but certainly no older. She was dark haired, skin freckled from the Jakku sun yet still relatively fair with long dark lashes that, under the low light on the now setting sun cast long dramatic shadows across her face.
Kylo stared, transfixed by the figure as she swept back stray tendrils of hair from her face. Suddenly, a flash of light skated across his vision, and almost immediately the red-yellow landscape of Jakku vanished, in place of a storm filled grey sky, with flashes of lightening dashing the ground around him threateningly. Out of the darkness appeared a figure, the same figure he had just seen before him, though older by perhaps five years, though it was hard to tell. The girl was more muscular now, and had traded her filthy rags for a pair of grey trousers and a simple grey tunic, but it was unmistakably her. Another flash of light, this time a shocking electric blue that lit up the sky once again. Kylo blinked, and the girl was stood above him, swinging down her strong arms, wielding none other than the skywalker lightsabre. He raised his arm in feeble protection, shouting out as the beam descended upon him, her face looming above him in a ferocious snarl. Everything melted into black, and a blossom of gold appeared in the centre of Kylo's vision, unfurling like a flower, petals of red and yellow expanding across his eyes as Jakku returned. It took a few seconds for Kylo to realise exactly where he was, and his disorientation caused him to stumble slightly. His head spun widely, making the earth move beneath him as he searched for the girl. She was no longer stood by her red bike, she had gone. Kylo panicked, he could not lose her, that girl meant something, perhaps something detrimental to him. To the first order. He had to find her. It was then that he heard it. Light, familiar notes cutting through his disorientation and focusing his mind. It was coming from behind the small outhouse a few yards away. Kylo frowned beneath his mask. And carefully began to approach the building. He needed her alive, and ideally she would not run. He needed to be able to see her in order to compel her with the force, but it was more than that. Though he would not admit it, Kylo wanted to see her again, perhaps even to speak to this mysterious, dangerous girl. Slowly he moved round the wall of the building, edging carefully. The patter of running water mingled with the sweet tones of her voice as Kylo moved ever closer, cautious in spite of himself. He knew he must look ridiculous, one of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy, creeping up on an unarmed girl. But he couldn't help himself, he had to know who she was, what she meant to him. As he reached the final corer of the outhouse, he realised he must make a decision, to declare himself to her and demand an explanation, or to simply take her aboard, and question her there. He could do either, there was nothing to stop him, no-one had higher authority than he here. She was his, should he wish it. And, Kylo realised, quite in spite of himself, he did. In the grasp of a quick decision, Kylo spun around the corner of the building, steeling himself to speak
"I am Kylo Ren, of the first order and I dema-"
Kylo broke of mid-sentence as the girl whirled to face him, her dark hair plastered to her neck and shoulders as she stood, clad in a thin white undershirt, sodden and clinging to her thin frame. Her hazel eyes widened in shock and, did Kylo detect, a certain note of indignance? There was an excruciating, shocked silence that seemed to last eternities and fill cavernous spaces with its unavoidable awkwardness. After what can only be described as a painfully long time, Rey broke the silence.
"You demand what, exactly…sir?"
The "sir" lingered at the end of the sentence in an almost provocative manner, and he couldn't help but visualise the flash of bright blue light illuminating her pretty features, contorting them into a vicious snarl.