Rey is loading up her bike with tools when she hears the sound of ion engines. She looks up and shades her eyes from the early morning sun. This isn't a smuggler's ship heading to the outpost. It's Kylo in his slick black shuttle. Rey watches as the ship settles gently to the surface. She's waiting for him, staff planted in the sand and a smile on her face, when he disembarks.

"You're just in time," she announces. "I'm headed to a wreck. Unkar Plutt needs two intact servo motor units for the interior door of some ship. The customer is impatient, so Plutt's paying well for a change." She shrugs and offers, "If you want, you can tag along while I scavenge."

"Sounds good," he decides and they are off on her bike. Minutes later, they are back at the Ravager wreck. Only this time, Rey takes him inside.

"When it comes to basic parts, this wreck is the best," Rey tells him as she picks her way around the ship's darkened corridors. "It's so large, that even with all the damage you can usually find something useful." They are both holding a lantern to light their way. Inside, the ship is dim and quiet. Very quiet. It had gone down with its full crew during the height of the battle, so there are skeletal, mostly mummified bodies everywhere. Kylo has almost tripped over three already.

"We're almost beyond the fire damage. Most of the rest of the ship is still in good shape on these levels once you get past the fire," Rey advises. Two more turns later and Rey finds something she likes. Kylo stands to hold the lanterns aloft as she digs into her bag for tools and gets to work.

Rey makes conversation as she disassembles the doorframe. She's curious. "So . . . do you go to old battlefields a lot?" she wants to know. She is surprised that Kylo keeps coming back. But she's happy that he does. "Is this a hobby of yours?

"I've been to a few," he admits.

"Yeah? Like where?"

"Endor. Scarif. Hoth. Places like that." He adds, "Mustafar counts too, I guess."

She looks up. "Mustafar? Is that Clone Wars?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I guess I don't know that battle. Actually, I don't know much about the Clone Wars," she remarks. Her lack of formal education is a constant source of frustration. Rey knows that she's not stupid. She's uneducated, and there is a difference. "Taxation of trade routes sure seemed like a dumb reason to fight a war," she grumbles, "let alone tear the galaxy apart for a decade."

"The true issue was taxation without representation," Kylo explains. "Even then, the Separatist Rim Worlds had no power in the Senate. The Core wanted to exploit the Rim's cheap labor and natural resources, the same as they do now."

Yes, and therein lies the Haves and Have Nots conflict that has plagued the galaxy for generations, Rey thinks. Rich worlds versus poor worlds. The Old Republic split in two over that tension. And two generations later, the New Republic has fared no better in resolving it. First the Separatists and now the First Order have championed the Rim's cause. "Taxation without representation," Rey echoes softly. "That sounds very First Order of you."

"I am First Order," Kylo reminds her.

She is tugging hard on the door mechanism now. Kylo moves to help but she shrugs him off. She's got this. She's a scavenger, so demo is her thing. He can help by holding the light. "Have you always liked history?" she asks between hard yanks.

"Yes, since I was a little boy. I spent about ten years of my life obsessed with the Clone Wars. I knew everything there was to know about that conflict. The politics, the battles, the weapons. All of it."

"And now you are obsessed with the Rebellion years?" she asks, glancing up at him. "Is that why you keep coming back to this battlefield?"

"The Rebellion is different. It's personal."

Oh, yeah. She forgot that his grandfather died at Endor.

"My family is largely responsible for the Rebellion against the Empire," Kylo reveals and he sounds bitter.

"Oh." And now Rey is confused because she thinks she remembers Kylo telling her that his grandfather was in the Imperial Navy. "Did you have family who fought here at Jakku?"

"My father fought here. My mother didn't. She had just had me."

She thinks a moment. "So, that makes you about thirty, right?"

"That's right. I turn thirty next month."

"You're as old as all this destruction then," Rey thinks aloud.

"Yes. How old are you?"

"I'm nineteen. I think. I could be twenty. It's all a little murky, to be honest." Like the rest of her past, it's all a bit murky. Rey is finished pulling the servo motors. She stands to hold them up to the light for inspection.

Kylo watches her and observes, "You look younger than nineteen, Rey. But you act more mature than nineteen."

She slants him a resentful look. "No one stays young long on Jakku, Kylo. You grow up fast here."

"I meant it as a compliment," he says softly.

"Oh." And now she is flustered. Rey can't remember ever receiving a compliment. She quickly changes the topic. "These look good," she decides. "Let's go."

And now it's Kylo's turn to make conversation. "What do you think about the Empire?" he asks as they head back.

Rey feels compelled to preface her opinion with an embarrassing qualification. "I've read a lot on the holonet about the Empire, but I never went to school. There aren't any schools here, Kylo. I'm not illiterate, but I'm no scholar." She says this as evenly as she can, but Rey can feel her face flame at the admission. Of all the things Rey regrets about life on Jakku, her lack of education ranks high.

Kylo shrugs like he has anticipated this. Or maybe he doesn't care. "I don't want to know what the historians say. I want to know what you think, Rey."

She considers a moment. "Well . . . like everything else, it seems like a reaction to the excesses of what came before. The Old Republic was disorganized and divided, so the Empire emerged and ruled with a firm hand. The Old Republic was maybe a little too democratic. Bogged down trying to get everyone to agree. And maybe that's why the Empire was a little too autocratic. Too harsh on dissent. Too quick to use force rather than persuade."

"What about the New Republic?"

"They talk a good game, don't they? But we never see any of their reforms or progress here. Maybe if I lived on a Core World I would think otherwise." Rey makes a face and spouts the conventional wisdom of every Rim dweller. "The New Republic is like the Old Republic—they're only interested in the Core Worlds," she grumbles.

He smiles at this. "You sound like one of us, Rey."

"Nah, I'm not First Order. I'm not anything, Kylo. I have opinions like everyone else but I don't have any allegiances. Look, don't take this the wrong way. But I'm more worried about my own life than the galaxy at large. I don't have any ideology. And I don't like war." She stops and points as she steps over another body. "Look down, Kylo. Look around you. All I know is the aftermath of war. I'm not big on war as the solution to problems. The First Order seems to really like war."

They are outside now. She turns to Kylo. "I need to go sell these servos to Plutt before someone else beats me to it. I'm sure he told others about this commission and it's first come, first served. If you want, you can tag along. Niima Outpost isn't much to see. But it's what counts for civilization around here."

Kylo shrugs and flashes that boyish grin she likes. "With an endorsement like that, how can I refuse?"

"Good," she says as she throws a leg over her speeder. "Then let's go."

Niima Outpost is a homely, desperate looking sort of place even to Rey's jaded eyes. Thirty years ago, an opportunistic Hutt had landed on Jakku to set up shop salvaging off the battle debris. Three decades later, the Hutts have moved on but the salvage business remains. It's conducted in a few open air, ramshackle buildings. Beside them, several tents crop up daily manned by itinerant peddlers.

As Rey parks the bike, she glances over her shoulder to Kylo. "Keep your hood up and stick close. Watch yourself. This place can be a little rough."

He looks amused by this comment but says nothing. To a tourist like him, this must seem like some sort of adventure, she thinks.

Rey untangles the two door servos from the speeder's cargo net. Together they stride towards Unkar Plutt's kiosk. "Plutt is a Crolute who runs the local economy. Any salvage or repair transaction has to go through him. That way he ensures he gets a cut of everything." She gives Kylo a hard look. She wants him to understand what's at stake. "He's a cheat and a thief, Kylo. But he controls who eats and who doesn't. He holds all the power. You don't pick a fight with Unkar Plutt."

"I understand power," Kylo boasts.

She fixes him with a hard look. "Not like this, you don't. Let me do the talking."

They are early today, so the salvage line isn't very long. There are only about six transactions ahead of them. Rey is relieved to see that none of the guys in line before her are selling door servos. Beside her, Kylo keeps staring over at the old Corellian freighter Plutt pays her to work on now and then.

"Is that a YT-1300 freighter?" he nudges her to ask.

"Yeah, but that ship is garbage," Rey tells him. "What a piece of junk. We mostly pull parts from it these days."

"Rey—" It's Calla, one of the old women sitting cleaning parts for sale. Calla walks over to lean in and speak under her breath so only Rey and Kylo hear. "The slavers came in last night. Watch yourself." Then she gestures with her eyes to a group of five men standing not far from Plutt's kiosk. The men have the look of off-worlders. They blatantly survey the crowd. Yep, they're slavers alright.

That's a good tip and Rey is grateful. "Thanks, Calla," she whispers back. "I owe you one. Stop by my walker anytime you need water." Then Rey abruptly shoves the servos into Kylo's hands. "Hold this," she says as she grabs for the staff on her back. She wants a weapon in her hand if there are slavers around. "I don't want to end up the bride to some Hutt. Or worse," she tells him.

Plutt refuses purchase to the next three sellers, turning them away emptyhanded. She and Kylo are next up. Kylo plunks the servos down and Rey does the talking. "Excellent condition from the interior of the dreadnought. These will work for years."

Plutt examines them haphazardly. "What you have brought me today is worth . . . one portion."

"One portion each," Rey confirms. That was the deal.

"One portion for both," Plutt counters firmly in his slow, deep voice.

Rey shakes her head and is equally as firm. "We had a deal yesterday. One portion each."

"And today they are worth one-half portion each, girl." The Crolute looks bored as he gestures to her. "Sell or move along."

Rey sighs. "Sell." The junkboss takes the servos and slides a portion over to Rey. Then he is on to the next sale.

"I hate that old cheat," Rey complains as she walks away stashing the precious portion in her pack. "Come on, let's go," she tells Kylo.

"Give me a moment," Kylo says under his breath. "Let me fuck with that guy some."

Rey's eyes widen. She doesn't need to make an enemy of Unkar Plutt. "No, Kylo!" she hisses after him. "Drop it. Let's go." But he doesn't listen. Instead, Kylo starts saying words slowly and deliberately as Calla steps up next to trade. "What she has brought you today is worth ten portions," Kylo says in a strange voice and Rey has no idea what he's doing. Unkar Plutt answers in an equally strange voice, only he's speaking to Calla and not to Kylo. "What you have brought me today is worth ten portions." And that doesn't make sense because Calla has an assortment of basic replacement parts for shielding. Altogether, it's maybe a half portion. Definitely not ten portions.

Rey is about to ask what's going on when she glances over to check on her speeder and sees two of the off-worlders poking at it. Great. Just what she needs. Rey never goes looking for confrontations but she's not about to let those guys walk away with her only mode of transport. Staff in hand, Rey stalks over but keeps her distance.

"Back off the bike. That's mine," Rey announces in her most gruff voice.

The pair look over her over dismissively. "It's ours if we want it, girl."

Rey watches in frustration as one of the men throws his leg over her bike and starts flipping switches. He's about to make off with it. Rey leaps forward to bring her staff crashing down hard on his neck and the guy tumbles to the sand. "Hey!" objects his companion and now it's a fight. But fists are no match for Rey's staff. The slaver can't get close enough to land a punch and down he goes too.

Satisfied, Rey lowers her weapon. And that's a mistake because the other three off-worlders come to join the fight. Three on one more than evens the advantage of Rey's staff and she takes a hard swipe to the chin. Her dazed moment of recovery is the distraction the trio need to knock her staff from hands.

"She's young. I bet under all that dirt she's pretty," one remarks and now they're trying to capture her instead of hurt her. That was probably their ruse all along, Rey realizes. They must have seen her ride up on the bike. She feels like an idiot for falling for their trick.

But she's Rey of Jakku and she lives to survive. She doesn't fight fair and she's not about to be taken alive by slavers. She kicks, she hits, she bites and she spits. And, as usual, the good people of Niima Outpost look on from afar with mild interest. No one gets involved in other people's affairs here on Jakku. There is no one to help her.

No one except the tall man in the black hood who likes history.

Rey is too immersed in the struggle to see Kylo approach. But she hears his voice loud and clear. "Let her go and no one dies." And then there is the strangest sound. It's an electric snap followed by another snap and then a hiss that becomes a loud buzz.

And now, for the first time, the small crowd of onlookers reacts.

Two of the three are focused on Kylo now as they pull blasters and start firing. But somehow they are the ones that go down from the shots. They each fall with a thud to the sand. The third man ceases his struggle with Rey and turns to run. But he's frozen midstride. Rey whirls, confused by everything that is happening so fast. She sees Kylo standing there. He has a red laser sword lit in his right hand and his left hand extended high in a fist. Calmly, he walks past her to the man attempting to flee. With a twirling swing, he takes the man's head off. It falls and rolls to within inches of Rey's boot.

"Oh!" is all Rey can think to say as she scoots back.

The man who Rey had beat off her bike starts to stir on the ground. Kylo stalks over to him and casually drives his sword straight through his chest. Then he turns back to Rey. "Are we done here?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're done," she manages weakly.

"Then let's get out of here."

Rey nods as she stares at the sparking sword in his hand. Kylo turns it off as she collects her staff. She hops on her bike, he climbs on the back, Rey guns the engine and they're away. Minutes later when they arrive back at her AT-AT, Rey is still panting from the fight and the adrenaline. She hops off the bike and instinctively starts backing away from Kylo. She grabs her staff and raises it defensively.

He looks wounded by this reaction. His eyes find hers. "Don't be afraid," he rasps. "You never need to fear me, Rey."

But Rey is afraid. She looks at Kylo a long moment as she connects the dots. Then her eyes find the sword hilt hanging at his waist that she had stupidly believed to be a tool.

"Don't be afraid," he repeats.

His calm, quiet tone reassures her. Rey nods. Then she drops her staff, puts her hands on her hips and challenges him. "So you're not a Kylo in the First Order. You're THE Kylo of the First Order. Kylo Ren himself." Her voice catches as she whispers, "All this time, my friend was really Kylo Ren . . . "

He looks her in the eye. "Yes."

"You're the one the Resistance calls a Sith like in the old stories the Church of the Force guy tells?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Rey crosses her arms and takes a moment to digest the meaning of this. And now she is self-consciously smoothing her hair and shifting her stance. Rey hadn't seen this coming. And she feels like an utter fool for that. Plus, now her friend Kylo the history buff Empire enthusiast suddenly seems scary and intimidating. She looks down and kicks at the sand. "Well, uh . . . thank you for saving me, Kylo Ren. You killed those men to save me . . . " Four of those five off-world guys are dead now, she realizes. That's a pretty high body count for around here. But probably not to the chief butcher of the First Order. He's killed thousands, she thinks. No, maybe it's hundreds of thousands.

He seems nonplussed by her statement and that seems very Kylo Ren. He walks forward to her. "Rey, you took a beating. Are you hurt?"

She shakes her head no. It's bruises, nothing more. She'll be sore for a day or two, that's all.

"Good." He steps closer now as softly he explains, "I don't like slavery, Rey. My grandfather was a slave. So was my great-grandmother. My mother once even managed to get herself enslaved and chained to a Hutt. No one should be a slave. Least of all you, Rey."

She gives him a questioning look and he grins at her. "You'd be a horrible slave. You're far from obedient."

Rey smiles a little at this. It breaks some of the tension and now he's back to being the Kylo she knows and not the infamous man whose fearsome reputation precedes him. She eyes him another long moment and he smiles back as if sensing her unease. And now Rey wonders aloud, "So . . . uh . . . where's the helmet? Is it on the shuttle? And the dress—where's your dress?"

He blinks at her. "Dress?"

"You know, your medieval knight dress looking thing—"

He raises an eyebrow and blinks. "Do you mean my surcoat?"

"Is that what it's called?"

"It's not called a dress," he informs her primly.

His wounded male ego makes Rey laugh a little. She exhales and more tension leaves her. She takes a deep breath. "Well, go on," she tells him with a wave of her hand towards his ship. "Put it on. I want to see."

"What?" he's surprised by this request.

"Come on—go put on the whole get up for me. I want to see the full Kylo Ren."

He looks half amused, half annoyed. But he stalks up into his shuttle anyway. A few minutes later he emerges and, yep, that's Kylo Ren. Rey stands at the bottom of the ramp, a little scared and a little excited by the sight of the towering masked warrior. Not an inch of his pale skin shows anywhere, just a few tufts of dark hair that stick down beneath his collar. "Wow," she breathes out as she takes an involuntary step back. She's impressed. "You look amazing," she approves. Because if your goal is to intimidate, then Kylo Ren's outfit succeeds and then some. He is a sight to behold. And he doesn't even have his sword lit. "You're very scary."

"And hot. Jakku makes this very hot."

The helmet amplifies his voice louder and deeper and it's perfect. "You sound so Darth Vader!" she squeals, clapping her hands. "Say something else!"

"Like what?"

"Oh, something Vader would say. How about 'We shall have peace.'"

"That was Palpatine."

"Oh. Right. 'I will not let this Republic, which has stood for a thousand years . . . uh . . .'"

"That was Palpatine too."

"Oh. Okay, well, how about something First Order. Try this: 'All remaining systems will bow down to the First Order.'"

"That's Hux."

"Oh. Yeah. Well, say something you say."

"I mostly give orders. I don't give speeches."

There is a loud hiss as he unlatches his helmet on both sides and drags it off. Intrigued, she steps forward to take it from him and nearly drops it. "Yikes, this is heavy!"

"You should try wearing it."

And that gives her an idea. "Can I?"

"No." He snatches it back.

"So Kylo Ren himself saved me from slavers," she beams up at him. "That was very dashing of you," she confesses girlishly. She recalls vividly the moment of the fight when she had turned to see Kylo and her heart had leapt with hope. Rey of Jakku has been struggling completely on her own for so long that his intervention was completely unexpected. And very touching in a way few people can relate to. "You were very heroic," she whispers.

He smirks and shrugs off this praise. "I'm used to people thinking I'm the villain."

"Not today, Kylo. Today, you were my hero." Rey could not be more sincere. The dark prince of the First Order had saved her from slavery. In fairytales, frogs turn into princes. But on Jakku, apparently, it's tourists.

"So you aren't going to complain that I should have arrested those slavers and given them a fair trial?"

"No." This too is sincere. "There are no courts on Jakku, Kylo. There are no trials. Disputes get resolved like you saw today. Maybe that's not the ideal solution. But it's generally the only solution." Rey is not going to fault Kylo for how he acted. She looks up, her eyes searching his for understanding. She wants him to know how grateful she is that he was her champion. No one sticks their neck out for anyone on Jakku. It's every man for himself. What Kylo did today was exceptional in her experience. And Rey of Jakku will be eternally grateful. "I'm not glad those men are dead, but I'm glad that I'm alive and free. And that was thanks to you, Kylo." She stares deep into those intense dark eyes as she repeats, "Thank you, Kylo."

Without warning, he crosses the three steps between them and plants a kiss on her lips. It's a slow, chaste kiss. Her first ever kiss. It's over just as Rey begins to enjoy it. She stands blinking in surprise.

"Goodbye, Rey. Stay out of slavery until I get back." Then he puts his helmet back on, marches up the ramp into his shuttle and flies away.