He had a bad feeling about this day, had it as soon as his feet had touched the hard cold steel floor of his room. His father had always told him to trust this feeling, he always had a good number of stories to tell of when this feeling had helped him out, and he always said that a Solo's gut is never wrong; so naturally his son choose to ignore it, reasoning that Kylo Ren, master of the Knights of Ren, controls the day and not the other way around. Unfortunately, this could not have turned out to be more wrong.
Surveying his wrecked TIE-fighter, Ren felt his fingers itching to grab hold of his Lightsaber as the familiar seep of blinding rage flooded over him. He wanted to tear something apart, slash it until there was nothing left, and Ren would have been more than happy to divulge into the urge if it weren't for the simple fact that there was absolutely nothing to destroy. Around him was only sand. Thick, heavy, burning sand. Aside from his already destroyed fighter, there was no sense of civilization, or water, or even the simple plain sense of a primitive life form scurrying around underneath. There was only emptiness.
Taking one last cursory look around, Ren swore and stumbled back to his cockpit where he searched for his transmissions radio. Finding it, he played with the toggle, trying to get it to hum its soft static. It remained silent.
"I just had to go flying, didn't I?" Ren said to himself, chucking the broken radio back into the fighter. "I just had to go and be reckless and join in the damn chase. That's why we have pilots, damn it."
He took another look at his fighter: even with the flames now distinguished, there was still no chance of repairs unless he wanted to replace the entire right side. Cursing under his breath, Ren finally took off his helmet, wiping back his thick dark hair, which was already starting to become moist with sweat. He sat down, glaring at his helmet before chucking it into the cockpit—much good it would do me here. Much good it would do me if I just sat here.
He scoffed, standing back up and then striping off a couple layers of his clothes until all he wore was his tunic, pants, boots, and hooded scarf. He took one look at his Lightsaber, and shaking his head rebukingly, he tried hooking it to the back of his pants; his tunic only just covered it. "What a pain," He said, and after a sharp kick at the fighter, he began his trek, figuring he would find some form of life eventually.
But by the time the sun had moved several positions towards the west, Ren found himself seriously doubting it. What sort of trash of a planet did I land on? He thought, halting in his tracks. He tried sensing water—long since giving up trying to sense a city—but yet again there was absolutely nothing around, only those graveyards that acted as decaying monument of his grandfather's fallen empire: smashed TIE-fighters who's broken parts embellished the never-ending sand, X-Wings and Y-Wings rusting in the dry heat, and Star Destroyers reaching futilely up to the sky as if trying to rejoin the long-lost battle.
Ren found himself shaking his head, berating himself. If only he paid closer attention to history after his grandfather's reign, maybe then he would know where the fuck he was. What space battle took place above a desert planet in the outer western reaches?
He suddenly scowled as a fresh flash of rage and embarrassment flooded over him as his mind wandered back to just a few hours prior, when he was standing in the control room of the Finalizer and wondering anxiously about the map. It had been years since they had found any new clues pertaining the last piece, and the Supreme Leader was beginning to become confident that they needn't worry about it any longer: Luke Skywalker was not coming back. Perhaps that was true, perhaps the Order would thrive without it, but Ren wouldn't. He needed that map, and his time was running out.
It was then when he heard a lieutenant tell Hux that Resistance fighters had been spotted and were well within range. Ren didn't even hesitant; he snapped at Hux that he was joining the chase. Flying soothed him after all, and his fingers itched to be behind the controls of a ship once more; he craved the feel of the smooth effortless power of bending the craft to his will. He had simply gone too long without flying, and he missed it.
Yes, he shamefully admitted it as he continued his seemingly pointless trek through the desert; he dreadfully missed flying, that comforting strong partnership between a man and his ship. It was in his blood after all—that was one thing he allowed himself to acknowledge. Yet, he thought, clenching his fists, look at what it did, made me end up disgracefully crashed on this Force-forsaken planet.
No, maybe my craving for flight wasn't the problem, he thought. No, it was that damn X-Wing that just appeared out of nowhere. That Resistance fighter had been alone the entire time I had been after it; how the fuck was I suppose to foresee the other one barreling out at me from the void of space? At least Ren could nurse his broken pride on the fact that he managed to successfully land his destroyed fighter, a feat that only the most talented of pilots could manage to pull off.
You know what would be an even more amazing feat? Ren found himself thinking some time later, if some damn rain would appear. Just for a moment, that's not asking for too much, now is it? His throat felt so raw and dry as if on fire. He halted, watching bitterly as the sun gradually turned bloody, preparing to sink into the horizon. He tried sensing again. Nothing. Well fuck.
He stood there, trying to muster the remaining strength he had when he heard it: a sound. It was a beautiful sound for letting him know that he wasn't actually alone on this disgraceful example of a planet, yet it was absolutely horrific sounding, an angry scream that sliced through and cut the very core of the dry heated excuse of what was the planet's air.
Ren froze, his face turning towards the source. Then suddenly, in a burst of noise, a squat green humanoid creature came barreling over a dune. It had its hands over its head, trying to protect itself from the shower of blows coming from a large staff clutched by a human girl who looked beyond pissed. Her mouth yelled out furious strings of words, words of a language Ren couldn't place, yet he did manage to comprehend a single word: kill.
The little humanoid finally broke free of the human girl's clutches, scampering away and down another dune. The girl just stood there atop her dune; she panted hard, and her staff hung limply at her side. Suddenly she turned her gaze, locking her eyes on him.
"What are you looking at?"
Ren weakly swallowed and managed to rasp out, "Nearest city?"
The girl blinked silently, staring at him skeptically. Then she answered, "If you're looking for a city, you've come to the wrong planet, but Niima Outpost is that way, twenty kilometers." She pointed out the direction with her staff.
Twenty kilometers. Ren thought, his spirits deflating, and the fear that he had held back this entire time finally gained a footing—what if I don't make it?
He managed to keep his face blank, however, and nodded his thanks to the girl. She nodded her head back, but she didn't leave, watching him with a calculating gaze. Ren didn't have the time or will to deal with her, so he hurried along, but the entire time he remained tense, feeling her presence just standing there, watching him. Eventually, though, she did disappear.
Ren let his face morph into a scowl, wondering once again why he ended up crash-landing on this trifling wasteland. Each step he took got heavier and clumsier, and he found himself fighting stubbornly against his drooping eyelids.
Suddenly, there was a bright sense of something coming up from behind him, something light-footed. Ren halted, his fingers itching to grab hold of his Lightsaber. He made them wait, however, turning around to look. It was the human girl, running expertly towards him through the sand. He decided to let her come closer, but he kept his hand hovering above his Lightsaber—you never know.
When she reached him, she slowed to a halt, extending her arm towards him and holding something up. It was a metal cylinder of some sorts. He looked down at her, trying to read her determined, tanned face.
What is such a pretty face doing here in this hopeless nowhere? Ren quickly shook that thought out, trying to refrain from mentally describing the girl's eyes.
The girl, biting her bottom lip, further stretched out her cylinder towards him, and then she said, "Water."
A wave of relief washed over him at the news that water was just at his fingertips, yet as Ren grabbed it, a great sense of cynicism came over him. He didn't need help or charity; he was above that. Then a little voice crept into his head saying, get over yourself; what do you have to lose?
He then scoffed, popped open the lid and poured its contents down his throat. It was the most miraculous thing in his life, feeling that water wash away the burning dryness that scorched his throat. That incredible revitalizing sensation, however, ended far too soon and far too abruptly for Ren's liking. He hit against the side of the canteen, hoping to encourage a few more drops to come out, but none did.
He finally lowered the canteen, looking straight at the girl again; her magnificent hazel eyes were watching him. They were soft, kind, and full of pity, and suddenly Ren felt his temper flash hot.
"Thanks," He said a little too sharply, handing the canteen back.
The girl took it with a small smile, never breaking her disgustingly pitying gaze. She then said, "I have more, if you want. I just have to go back to get it."
"Do I look that bad?"
"Yeah."
Her straightforward answer shot his temper dead, and, to Ren's surprise, a soft short laugh suddenly escaped from him. The girl blushed a little, realizing her brashness, yet the ridged confidence that graced her eyes didn't flicker for even a second.
Ren then smiled down at her. "Thank you, but I think I'll managed until the Outpost."
The girl nodded her head, and Ren turned to leave, but he only took two steps until the girl said, "Do you have any parts?"
He looked back at her questioningly, "No."
"Then I'm afraid you won't get very much. Unkar Plutt doesn't give much unless you have a good ship part on hand. Or money—do you have any of that?"
"I'll manage." He told her then continued on his way.
Yet he rather quickly found himself stopping once again, turning back around as once more he heard the girl's voice call out. She was running up to him again, and when she stopped, she oddly looked to be exasperatedly flustered.
"Do you have a weapon?"
"What?"
"A weapon? Jakku isn't the most pleasant of places to travel when the sun goes down."
"I'll—"
"Manage?" The girl finished with a sarcastic smile.
He looked down at her, utterly not amused and fighting back a scowl. Ren was capable of making thirty-year-old warriors quake in fear, yet here was this girl looking up at him in amused skepticism, as if he were an incapable child. He wanted to take out his Lightsaber, show her what he was really capable of, and that anything on this primitive planet was no match for him; yet he kept his face blank, telling her, "I'll find a way."
At that, a rushed puff of air escaped from her lips, and the girl crossed her arms against her chest. "Look," She said, gazing past his shoulder and at the half-set sun, "You'll never make it, not before nightfall—especially in those boot—and Unkar Plutt doesn't operate until tomorrow afternoon, so you'll be sitting around for half a day anyway. You'll be better off finding some shelter to stay the night. Now, I can give you a place to stay—just for a night mind you—it isn't much, but it's better than nothing unless—"
"I'll be eternally grateful if you could provide me shelter."
The girl met his eye again, and the understanding of what Ren just committed himself to entered his mind.
I didn't like this, he thought. Why did I just say yes to this? Stupid mouth, I thought I had conquered your mindless blurting. I got to get out of this; I can't accept help; that's weak. Pathetic. If the Supreme Leader knew, if any of them found out—yet if this girl is willing to give me help, I shouldn't be a fool and turn it down, and they would never need to know. Plus, it would be a worse shame if I backed out of it now. Yes, this'll be fine. Just fine—wait a moment.
Ren had then realized that the girl was observing him cynically as if she were about to retract her offer. Annoyance crept sharply up his back, and Ren momentarily thought of just turning around and leaving this girl here for good. She seems like too much of a hassle anyway.
Then suddenly she twisted around, "Well come on then," She said walking away, "No point in just standing here."
Glaring at her retreating form, Ren reluctantly trudged along after her. She walks so gracefully, He suddenly thought. He tried shaking it, but it wouldn't budge, and instead he found himself admiring how the incoming evening breeze picked up her hair so softly, and how she seemed to glow, bathed in the light of the sunset.
Hit by a sudden desire, he couldn't resist calling out, "What's your name?"
"I'm Rey." She answered over her shoulder, never breaking her long stride, "What's yours?"
Ren hesitated. He couldn't say Kylo Ren; even though she did live on an uncivilized planet, she still might have heard about him. After all, he wasn't that unknown of a figure. So without thinking, he told her the next name that popped in his head, the next name he was familiar with.
"Ben."
She suddenly halted, looking back down at him. "Ben," She said as if tasting the name, "Nice name—it suits you."
"Thanks." He said, feeling disgust fester within as once again he felt it. He had a bad feeling about this; that his idealistically short stay on this planet would not end well for him, and it'll be all because of this girl named Rey.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Just a quick aside, if I got any facts wrong, would you be kind enough to take time to let me know? I like getting things right, and I was pulling things from my memory of the movie so they may not be correct...
Also, I played a bit with grammar in this story-if something large/repetitively is incorrect, would you mind letting me know also?
Thanks for reading! Hoped you like :)