Hux first became aware of an incongruity, not by sight, but by sound: a girl's voice, her elocution purely imperial. Hers was a voice he could slide down and, in doing so, find himself standing among confabulating highborn ladies in the salon of a First Order Matron. But he was on Jakku and there were no tinkling chandeliers here to provide soft ambient lighting for patrons.
He caught a glimpse of her from his shaded vantage point in what passed for a cantina in a little pisshole such as Niima Outpost. She dressed the part of a local, never the less, Hux recognized something. Perhaps it was the turn of her head when she glanced towards the water depot or the flash of her throat as she took a breath, standing perfectly still in que for the junk dealer.
Hux was not on Jakku to wonder over a girl with a posh accent, he was here on a scavenger hunt to see how well the Imperial regime had had destroyed its research facility in the Carbon Ridge. He had a feeling he would find something there, something important that would fill in the critical gap of knowledge on the relationship between kyber crystals and stars.
The girl disappeared into the shade under the junk dealer's awning and when she came out again, portions in hand, Hux had disappeared from the cantina and was on his way to the bombed out research facility to find whatever secrets it might still hold.
Hux had a mind that could thin-slice and put things together that few could rival. His study of the Empire made him well aware of all its myriad mistakes and he just came across another one. Hidden under a slide of rubble and debris was an access door, thus giving him access to a secret installation that was allegedly wiped off the map after all data had been transferred. There were rows upon rows of data cartridges in the subterranean storage vault he had rappelled into that looked completely untouched.
Hux scanned each cartridge of data. Some of the registered codenames he was familiar with like Stardust, Mark Omega, and Stellarsphere. Blue Harvest was the first code name he came across that he had never heard of nor seen mentioned before and Hux had top security clearance. Thirty-odd years down the line and Hux was grateful for the exponential memory capacity at his disposal. He could download every single cartridge in this vault on a storage space a few data pads offered.
It was good to be in the dark underground transferring files and watching as they trickled down into his custom database. Hux had slathered on sunscreen, he had worn a hat, he had stayed in the shade, but still his skin had burned under the sun. His nose was red and aching and his cheeks stung if he smiled even the slightest as the data that lay dormant for over thirty years was now his to obsess over.
A man stood just behind her, looking over her shoulder as she soldered wires about her little makeshift device at the table. The only word Rey could use to describe him was crisp. She could see his boots out of the corner of her eye. His clothes, his manner of walking, she imagined even his speech was perfectly summed up by the word. He watched her work for some time and when he sensed her work was nearly done he encroached further on her space.
"It's not for sale," Rey told the man without looking at him, removing her safety goggles now that she was finished.
"I'm not interested in buying, simply interested," he replied. His speech was crisp. Rey turned to look at him and found she had to look up at him.
"I'm not for sale either," Rey was firm, least he get the wrong idea and require more violent methods of refusal. She took in his space-pale face blistered with sunburn and his cool gaze. His expression did not change with her rejection.
"Of course not," he indicated her work with a tilt of his head, "You're very clever."
"Yes, I am," Rey replied without pause. And he quirked a small smile then, unperturbed by her self-assuredness.
"Who taught you how to do this?" This off-worlder's interest was a nuisance. Rey was not interested – no matter how crisply he spoke.
"I taught myself," Rey told him and she could not tell whether he believed her or not. Not that she cared one way or the other, so long as he would leave her to her business.
Rey tidied up her station, placing her supplies into her bag. She needed this cobbled-together part to get her speeder working long distance again. Rey could not tell if the man knew she had made something out of incompatible parts or if he was simply attempting to engage her for his own amusement.
"Where do you come from?" He asked. Rey did not believe this man to be as nonchalant and innocuous as he seemed.
"That's classified," Rey meant it to be a death note in the conversation, but the sudden intensity behind the man's eyes told her otherwise. He was thinking intently, puzzling her out.
"Clearly, you're not of Jakku. Your speech betrays you," the man said shrewdly, "I know where you're from, the question is, 'How did you get here?'"
Rey stood up abruptly, jolting the table and bench, her tools clattering against one another in her satchel. She had no memory of this tall man, but her remembrances of life before Jakku were paper-thin at best.
"Do you know me? Do you know of my family? Do you know what happened to my people?" Rey unleashed a barrage of questions, her cool attitude of dismissal turned to agitated, desperate hope like a kill switch flipped on a murder bot.
"How long have you been here by yourself?" The man did not step back in the face of Rey's intensity, but continued to calculate.
"Ten standard years," Rey blurted out, "Do you know me? Who sent you?"
"I believe I know something of your family," the man said carefully, "What do you remember?" Rey could not believe her ears; hope warred with her natural sense of caution and won out.
"A ship, I remember a ship, and a promise - a promise to come back for me. Do you know me? If you know my name, say it then," Rey did not realize she was begging, her mouth dry. She trembled from head to toe.
"Why don't we speak someplace else? Someplace with more privacy?" The man suggested as he glanced around at all the unwarranted attention she was garnering. Sentient species in range of the seeming disagreement had mostly stopped in their labors, not to interfere, but to watch.
"No," Rey said, harsh and guttural, her staff in hand quick as lightning and ready to strike at this man if he tried anything. The situation was quickly devolving towards altercation.
"I don't believe-" the man attempted to placate, but she interrupted.
"Say my name," Rey demanded through clenched teeth, "If you know my name, say it."
"It isn't safe to speak out in the open like this, especially about something so sensitive as-," the man said as focused tension slid over his body like a second skin in response to her waning belief in his good intentions.
"Get away from me," Rey barked, ashamed at herself for letting this off-worlder push her buttons.
"As you wish," he said graciously and stepped back, but he did not turn to leave. He seemed to deliberate for a moment, "My name is Armitage. I don't know your name, but I believe I know what happened to your family."
"I don't believe you," Rey uttered in frustration, tears building behind her eyes, but she refused to shed them in front of this man.
"Naturally," Armitage said crisply, "But I give you fair warning: I am leaving this planet. I will not be coming back. It would be a shame if your only hope at finding your people left with me." He waited a beat as Rey panted in an effort to bring enough oxygen into her lungs. He turned and walked away.
"Bastard!" Rey bellowed at his retreating back. He stopped. Rey's hands tightened on her staff, ready to react if he took issue with her juvenile name-calling. Armitage looked back at her, his face seemed to have something of a smile about it, mostly about his eyes.
"Indeed," was all he said and then he kept walking.
Walking away from her, how dare he. Rey threw the rest of her equipment into her bag and wrapped her newly made part in a rag before stuffing it into an inner pouch in her satchel. She kept her eyes on the man's back as he moved into the small crowd at the water depot. Rey followed close behind, covering his tracks with hers.
Hux knew the girl was following him, had walked away with certainty that she would follow once he delivered his ultimatum. It was clear to him who she was now – the child of Imperial Refugees using Jakku as a launching point into the Unknown Regions. It explained her speech, her memories of a ship, her dexterity of mind signifying superior stock, and her unfortunate stranding on Jakku. Something had gone wrong, terribly wrong. The girl was left behind and a decade had passed with no one to return for her. Hux believed this bright girl belonged with the First Order.