Her entire body ached. It ached and when she moved, it stung fiercely as well. Around her the bright Jakku sun bore down with fierce intensity. Rosh sat up, amazed that she could...that the thieves had left her alive. Licking her lips, Rosh tasted dried blood that seemed to have poured from her nose.
She gingerly put a finger to what had once be a long, straight nose she had been quite fond of. She winced at the pain and how crooked it felt. Not surprisingly her left eye was barely able to open. Her right eye, though, was fully able to observe her lack of clothes. The thieves had only left her in her short underclothes and boots. Every inch of exposed skin was bright pink.
Standing, Rosh felt like a complete idiot. At the time it seemed natural to go ahead to get everything she would need for desert life right off the bat. Now despite only having the use of one eye she could see the utter stupidity of throwing around her wealth with such abandon.
It was well past dawn; there was no way the Duros woman was anywhere around the station. How could she even show up in just her underwear? Would that just paint a giant target on her still pale back? Rosh had noticed the back half of her body had been protected from being unconscious on her back.
"Don't panic, Rosh," she said to herself as she began to pace. "Don't panic. It'll be okay. Think." The wind was picking up, hurling sand at her burnt skin, and causing it to sting like a thousand little papercuts. She couldn't stay exposed like this without food or water. She'd be dead within the day. There was no choice. She had to head back to the station and hope for the best.
Several hours later, Rosh was getting light headed from exposure and dehydration. The vast desert seemed endless in all directions - she had long ago come to terms with the fact that she was lost. The sand had worn at her skin and she was bleeding in various areas of her arms and legs. Her face was in agony and she could feel tears stream from her swollen eye, irritated from the barrage of sand.
Unable to continue, Rosh fell to her knees and cried out in frustration. She was only twenty. How could she be dying at twenty in a shitty desert wasteland? The words of Instructor ran through her head...she was supposed to have what she needed. She was supposed to find that general and be someone. Scenes she had always imagined her life would hold began to appear in front of her.
Joining the New Republic Army...making her parents proud...fighting and making a name for herself. Her father pinning medals to her uniform in front of the cheering Senate floor.
Going with her friends from back home on trips around the galaxy. She could see her oldest friend Picla, with her crooked grin, waving off in the distance. What Rosh wouldn't give to be able to go to the seedy cantina, The Rusted Bolt, on the outskirts of town with her again to play sabacc with the space travelers. They had seemed so daring and street smart back then with their comfy beds in their safe homes just a short transport away.
It hit her with a stunning amount of weight that all of those images had become obsolete to her long before she found herself dying in the desolate desert of this forsaken planet. Folding down so that her forehead rested on her knees, Rosh began to sob. Please, she begged to any higher powers that may have been listening, please, don't let this be it.
On her shoulder there was a pressure, like someone had placed their hand on her, but it didn't cause the burns to flare. The touch felt soothing. Rosh's head jerked up to see the goofy grin of Picla as Rosh last remembered her - in their school's maroon uniform, sandy blonde hair tousled like she had just risen from bed, those freckles making her face look perpetually dirty.
"Hey, Ro," she said as if this was any other day.
"Picla…"
Picla sat cross-legged next to her and started playing with the sand. "This plan sure went to shit, eh?"
"Don't be a smart ass right now, Pic. I'm dying."
Picla let out a cackle. "Uh-huh - still dramatic. Maybe if you hadn't been so dramatic back home things could be different. We could be drinking ourselves blind at the Rusted Bolt. You kind of made a mess of things, though."
Rosh felt hot anger erupt from her heart. "You'd have done the same if you saw what I saw."
"What are you talking about?"
"He had them killed! He had them all killed because of those bastards."
Picla's smile never faltered. She just sat there looking as innocent and unassuming as ever. "Look at me. Let me see your eyes."
"He had them killed! He had them murdered," Rosh felt herself being held, but she continued to thrash and yell. No longer was the touch she felt soothing, but agonizingly tight on her scorched skin. Rosh cried out in pain.
"Calm down," it was a new voice. Still feminine, but with a Jakku accent. "Just calm down, you're going to be okay."
Rosh was too delirious to listen. She kept screaming and sobbing, but whoever had a hold of her never let go or stopped asking patiently for her to calm down. At one point Rosh jerked her head back and hit something hard enough to cause the already blurry world to go black and silent.
It was the smell that hit her first. It was a mixture of musty wet clothes and one of the paste portions grilling. The afterlife smells awful.
Rosh found that her left eye had been bandaged and was sore when her sight returned. She was in a canvass tent again on a cot under some piled blankets. It was night time and there was a small fire in the center of the tent making the room feel cozy and warm. She felt a little groggy, but no longer in the delirious stupor of before.
"You're awake," the familiar sharp tone was a welcomed relief to Rosh. In the doorway was the Dorus woman looking completely nonplussed at Rosh attempting to sit up.
"I'm lucky," Rosh said on the verge of tears. She felt a bit dizzy, but still stronger than before and somehow in the same vicinity of the closest thing to a friend she had on the planet.
"You are an idiot that should be dead," the woman sounded angry as she went to scooping portions onto a plate. "I cannot believe I almost worked with you. The first freight that comes through has to have you on it." The woman set the plate roughly down on Rosh's lap and began tidying up the tent.
"I made a mistake," Rosh stated firmly. "I've learned. I can't leave."
The women fiercely turned on Rosh, drawing herself up to full height. "You've learned? What have you learned exactly? Two more hours and you'd be dead, girl. Just another hunk of trash for the desert to swallow. It has been two days since I got you in that bed. Two days. You don't. Make. Mistakes on Jakku. You die."
"Fine. I'm a moron, but do you have the money to get me out of here? Cause I lost everything to those thieves."
The woman stood with her jaw set firmly, staring down Rosh, lost in thought. "You can stay here," she said finally. Rosh felt her face twitch from shock. "You can stay here and work with me until you have enough to leave. I'm tired of watching young people die, but you must do everything I say, understand?" Her finger was in Rosh's face and the look she wore was one of suffocating intensity.
"I do," Rosh was as earnest as she could be, but the woman didn't soften.
"You better." She rose and continued to put away items from the day.
As Rosh began eating she noticed that she was covered in a white paste that must have been meant to ease the burning because she wasn't in nearly the pain she should would have thought. Her body was one big, dull ache. Touching her nose, it was still crooked, but didn't hurt. She suddenly remembered being held by a stranger.
"Who saved me," Rosh asked - the woman who didn't look up.
"A girl from the desert."
"And she brought me to you?"
"She brought you to town and was ready to trade her whole day's worth of parts to get you help, but I came along in time to stop that from happening."
"Oh," Rosh didn't know exactly how to react. It was a level of gratitude towards a couple of strangers that she could not articulate. "Thank you," was all she could get out.
"Eat," responded the woman.
"Do you think I could find that girl in town? To thank her, too," Rosh asked.
"Probably, although you busted her lip something fierce. Blood everywhere," the woman almost smiled. "You may want to bring her something a little extra, just saying."
Rosh smirked and took another bite of the grainy portion. It was awful and amazing at the same time - just to be able to eat felt like a miracle. Feeling the pain around her eye felt amazing, as did the itchy blankets, and the guarded affection from the woman - anything that made her feel alive felt like a precious gift in that moment.
"Amira," the woman said after several moments of silence.
"Amira?" Rosh felt as if she was having one of her old conversations with Instructor.
"That's my name," the woman was standing with her arms folded, looking into the fire.
"Amira," Rosh repeated, grinning at her. Rosh paused a moment, contemplating what to say next. "I'm...I'm Ro." On Naboo she had gone by a completely different name to protect her identity, but for better or worse she couldn't bring herself to completely lie to Amira.
"Ro," Amira tried out the name. "Get yourself together before you get someone killed."
