Coming from a desert with no formal education, Rey wouldn't have suspected that she could have kept up with her classmates. Rey also would not have suspected that she'd ever leave that desert planet either. But she had thought wrong in both instances.
Rey examines the results of the latest engineering exam—her final required one actually. She scored perfectly, again. As she scanned the board, her eyes fixated on her identification number and its adjoining score, checking and rechecking to confirm she hadn't read the results incorrectly, the world was silent around her. It was late, closer to the midnight then what would be considered evening, when maybe some stranglers would be wandering the halls, studying or monitoring an experiment. She had come at this time purposively, even though she had received the same message as everyone informing them that scores would be posted in the early afternoon. This silence brought her back to Jakku, back to the expanse of sands through which she had scavenged, the dunes upon which she had perched, scanning the ruins, focusing her eyes on a particular spot as her vision turned inward.
Rey shivers. Or she felt flushed. She wasn't sure which, or of the difference, or why she reacted this way at this point. Nrad would want to know. Rey knew as much for certain because he had messaged her soon after the scheduled time of the posting of the results. He needed official confirmation that she had passed the required exams so he could apply to bring her on as his assistant. She would have to complete her own project as well before they'd bestow upon her the qualifications, but her professor hadn't mentioned that—not since he had come to her with this latest idea, anyway, this vague opportunity that had structured the past few months of Rey's life.
No other student had scored anywhere near as high as Rey. In fact, depending on what they considered passing, which Rey didn't know, no one else may have shown sufficient proficiency. Rey also didn't know the names or faces for which these numbers corresponded. She had recognized no one during the exams—but she had taken it a year early, urged on by Nrad. She did as her professor instructed her. Rey did other things as well—she ran a repair business out of her room, and she usually had several personally chosen projects—but they all came after her course work and whatever else Nrad assigned to her.
The university building has wide hallways, metal walls with inlets for classrooms and broad portrait windows on the exterior that slanted ever so slightly outward as they reached toward the roof. Long strips of lights stretched along the high ceiling the whole length of that hall. These lights reflected in the polished, pure white floor. Rey considered the building no less bright than daytime on Jakku, yet she recognized it as infinitely cleaner, more anonymous. Her boots echoed through the otherwise empty halls. She still wore sturdy, dark work boots—bought at an off campus military surplus store—like she had on Jakku, when she had trekked across the scorching sand and scaled the sharp crags of decaying equipment.
Rey passes through the glass doors into the night. A security droid rolls on the path before her, not giving her a single glance. She had her identification badge strapped to her belt, which the droid no doubt would have scanned, so it knew Rey belonged here. She went in the opposite direction toward her dormitory. She had come out to check her exam results, and she had, so she had no further reason to be out. As she walked along, she sighed and slid her hands into the pockets of her grey jacket, allowing herself to relax, maybe—or to refocus her attention at least, away from the exam, from the present physical moment, the chilly breeze prickling her skin and the almost inaudible hum of the lights that lined the path and the alternate shadow and light they cast upon her face. Nrad had pushed her to take these exams with the class ahead of her, meaning she had a year less of structured instruction, of fiddling with machines in the laboratory to help her prepare. Rey recalled the conversation, vague but providing the necessary direction.
She had been sitting at the work bench push against the wall that ran parallel to her bed, rewiring a droid someone had hired her to repair when she heard a beep, the signal that she had received a message. Rey had blinked but did not startle. Without looking away from her current task—it required only her eyesight, not her full attention—she turned on her monitor. It spoke its message to her:
"Rey, an exciting, and potentially rewarding, opportunity has come to my attention. I think you would be a look fit for it. But…"
His voice had trailed off at this point, which got Rey's attention. She felt her body tingle. Her communicator could be broken. Since she had obtained much of the technology she personally owned used, or had built it with spare parts for which she had bartered, a breakdown represented a distinct possibility. Rey imagined herself taking the thing apart, inspecting every piece and connection until she found the problem, and then rebuilding it so it functioned again. The voice continued, though, shattering Rey's fantasy:
"But Rey, in order for you to do this, you would have to qualify as an apprentice engineer, which means…you'd have to take the required exams in the coming months."
Although a bit disappointed she wouldn't have to repair her communicator, Rey felt her heart race. Nrad kept talking, detailing the exams and their content, information she could easily obtain any number of places. She rested her elbow on the table, her chin on her palm and stared off into the distance—at the wall really but more so than the bare walls, she saw potential futures. She imagined herself passing the exams and being swept away into a job with…she actually didn't know the most desirable position so she left that detail out of her daydream…Her team would be assigned to a task no one else had been able to solve…But she would be able to crack it.
"Let me know as soon as possible. Take care, Rey." The massage ended there. She had leapt from her seat and grabbed the staff that leaned against the wall. She would reply when she returned. Now she would go practice her technique. The repetition of her drills would occupy her body while her mind expanded upon possibilities…
When Rey got home, she sat on her bed and unlaced her boots. Her bag rested next to her, clanking as she moved her arms. It bugled with parts, some she needed for projects or repairs, some she just carried around with her. Rey had left Jakku over five years ago, but she still horded. Since she enjoyed physical exertion and never had any guests, she overlooked this tendency. She eyes the workbench across from her. All that day she had spent on an ongoing personal project—a droid. Rey had no idea what function the droid she built would serve, which presented her with some difficulty when constructing it, since she, as she rarely if ever did, had no idea what specifically the parts she put together would become. But Rey had repaired enough droids for enough people that she warmed to the idea of having her own.
An unscientific review of the business her repair service received suggested droids to be the most common equipment that broke down on this campus. Students and researchers alike used droids with knowledge specialized to their fields. Rey often encountered droids who helped engineers. In fact, Nrad had one who would greet Rey whenever she entered his office. Its rapid beeps filled the silence while she waited or when she stared down at her hands folded in her lap reluctant to converse any more than absolutely necessary. Nrad would reply to the droid. He spoke their language. Rey only recently began considering herself fluent in it. Before she learned, she would zone out during the droid-human interactions. She found the incessant beeping annoying really. Even know, when she could understand the meanings conveyed with these beeps, it still wore on her nerves.
While not always as efficient, her own input into a computer could net the same results. Rey knew she often added tedious steps to her work, but it also meant that she performed every step of her work with her own hands, from which she gained a sense of accomplishment. Not completing a task from start to finish, alone with only her own know-how, like she sometimes had to do for classes, left her feeling restless and empty. Rey went to her workbench and picked up a piece, turning it over in her hand, admiring the original engineering and the fixes she had made. On Jakku, these pieces meant food, survival. Before she was an engineering student, before Nrad brought her here sponsoring her basic needs so she could devote her time to honing her intelligence and skills, Rey had been a scavenger, taking on this trade, this identity as a means to live. But now, she would be an engineer. What this progression actually would mean, Rey couldn't fathom—beyond Nrad's vague plans for her, beyond her frequent fantasies of the recognition of her genius, beyond an itch she had for a challenge that repairing droids and class projects couldn't fulfill.
"I passed." Rey sent the simple message to Nrad.
Rey looks around the room, then back at the communicator. She breathes slowing, standing with her hand still resting on the desk in her dim, quiet room. It felt like something should happen. The segments of the droid rest on the table. She could pick up where she left off when she went to the university building. Her eyes dart back to the communicator. He will respond in the morning she tells herself. He will explain what will happen then, about this great opportunity he all along has been plugging. She moves the communicator from the bench to the table next to her bed.
Although tiredness hadn't yet crossed her mind, Rey goes to bed. She lays on her side, closing her eyes and trying to clear her mind of all but a darkness similar to the lightless room around her. Rey doesn't sleep well and never has, not since she came here and not on Jakku. Her sleeplessness, and the restlessness it brings, are a constant character trait, as much as her intelligence.
When Nrad messages Rey in the morning, she is still lying in bed, not sleeping but not yet prepared to start her day. She hears a beep and is prepared to ignore it, as she often does. It beeps again, and she remembers—remembers that she actually cares to hear what Nrad today as to tell her.
"Good for you, Rey! Please come to my office as soon as possible today. I will be in all day." There was a few second of silence now, which Rey took as a letdown. Then Nrad continued, "Rey, you've been patient about this whole thing…" Nrad sighed. "There's a contest soon. I want you to enter. They're looking to hire young, talented engineers for a new project. It seems like a perfect opportunity for you. So, please stop by. We'll talk about the details."