Present day

Rey jerked the steering wheel and roughly came to a stop in the parking lot outside of her apartment building, the gravel crunching and kicking up from under her tires. She killed the engine and allowed herself a moment to seethe in the privacy of her car.

"Who do they think they are?" she growled under her breath. She snatched her bag, flung her car door open, and stormed all the way up to her third-story apartment, not caring if she pissed off the neighbors by stomping loudly on the metal stairs.

This apartment was decidedly better than her last one, that one she had shared with Kelly and the other girls, but it was still modest and low-budget. Even though Rey made plenty of money now, she still lived frugally, deep down afraid that she'd lose everything again. It was in one of those areas in the city that wasn't too great, but wasn't the worst, where neighbors kept a cautious and polite distance from each other. Rey had lived there for four months and had only spoken to the old man in 4-C twice. She spoke to no one else.

She chucked her purse across the living room as she crossed it heading to her bedroom, missing the couch completely and the bag exploded its contents all over the rug. She kicked one stupid high heel off and then the other, and soon the ugly, frilly, professional blouse was thrown down, too. She shimmied out of the pencil skirt and uncoiled the stifling pantyhose, dropping the offending clothing at the foot of her bed. She snatched a pair of loose-fitting brown yoga pants and a comfy t-shirt, tugged a pair of worn ballet flats on her feet, readjusted her hair into a couple of sloppy buns, and assessed herself in the mirror. Yes, much better. She nodded approvingly at her reflection.

Her body still prickled with aggravation. She unconsciously clenched and unclenched her fists and paced through her small apartment with no apparent goal in mind. She passed her fish tank three times before remembering to sprinkle some flakes in for the goldfish.

"Hello, fishies," she murmured against the glass. The food stunk as she crumbled it into smaller pieces between her finger tips, but it smelled delicious to the fishes who eagerly bobbed toward the surface to suck up a few nibbles.

Rey stopped to wash her hands in the kitchen sink. She scrubbed her skin, picked her nails, losing herself to her thoughts as she replayed that day's events. She gazed through the half-open blinds of the window over the sink, barely paying attention to the lights of the cars that drove by on the busy street.

The ding of the elevator. The sound of her heels tapping against the tile. Those faceless, armored guards. The high-rise office that more resembled a lair. Ben, Ben. He smelled so good. The rain drops against the window, the fog that wrapped the city in a lover's embrace. His voice and its deep timbre. The way he felt, the way he smelled. Everything was crystal clear, all the thoughts were true to her, until she stood at that window and he came up from behind. Something turned murky. There was darkness in her head, like a void that had been carved into her memories.

He's here.

"Ah!" she cried, pulling her hands out of the sink. Her skin was red and the water steamed hot and scalding from the faucet. She hurriedly slammed the lever down to shut off the water and dropped to her knees to hide.

What are you doing? she told herself. Who are you hiding from?! But there was fear, a chest-tightening, heart-racing, fight-or-flight fear that sneaked up on her that she couldn't stifle. She crouched perfectly still for a good minute, listening to the muted sounds of traffic, straining to hear anything else in the gentle din.

Go. Go, move, get moving! She willed herself to scramble back to the living room, avoiding the other windows. She spotted her phone on the floor, but to get to it, she'd be in clear sight of a window that she hadn't closed.

On the opposite wall, above the fireplace, was a decorative katana from the previous tenant who'd left it behind. Rey loved it for how tacky and ridiculous it was and had elected to keep it when she moved in, and now she was glad she had something sharp in her possession.

She pressed against the wall, moving slowly and carefully toward the fireplace. She grabbed the katana from the wall and immediately dropped back to the ground.

I feel him.

She didn't know where he was, but she sensed his presence. She was certain she had locked her front door. She did; she heard the deadbolt jiggle before she saw it.

Adrenaline coursed through her and she sprang up, racing toward the sliding glass doors. She flung the sword's sheath over her shoulder and without a moment's hesitation, scrambled over the edge of the balcony, grasping the twisted wrought-iron rods. She heard the dead bolt give way and the haunting sound of the door scratching open. She swung herself down below on the second-floor unit's balcony before the intruder could see her.

There was an audible click as her front door gently closed. One heavy footstep creaked, then another. Rey realized she could hear this because she left the damned sliding door open. The footsteps quickened and she lunged over the edge to drop down on the grass below. She darted toward a large hedge and ducked behind it just in time.

Biting her fist to keep from panting out loud, Rey peered vainly through the thick leaves, trying to glimpse a view of whoever it was on her balcony. All she could make out was a figure, tall and shadowy. Its head cocked left to right, then suddenly locked in her direction. Then, it didn't move. Rey's heart leapt to her throat and the figure vaulted over the balcony, all the way to the ground.

Rey had never moved so fast in her life. She ran the fastest she ever had run, the sheath of the katana slapping against her back. She was too afraid to look over her shoulder and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Her ballet flats smacked on the concrete sidewalk, and she was grateful she had thought to put the flimsy shoes on.

One of her buns unraveled and a thick chunk of hair flew in her face; she batted at it madly to clear her vision. She exited her sprawling apartment complex and onto the main road. She did not hasten her pace and pumped her legs and arms. Her heart smashed liked a trapped hummingbird against her rib cage and her lungs wanted to explode, but she could not stop. She knew whoever it was following her was close behind. She sensed it. She felt it and it was a force malicious.

She came to a major intersection and the light turned red, but she powered through the street, dodging any cars that honked at her. Don't stop, don't stop! Just as she was about to alight on the curb across the street, a car's horn blared and Rey heard the sound of brakes squealing just before she hit the asphalt.

###

"Ma'am, can you hear me? Ma'am, don't move, just stay awake. No, no, don't close your eyes." A meddlesome light broke into her line of sight and she winced.

"That's good, that's good, stay still. Can you tell me your name?"

Rey squinted as the light bounced around. She could make out a shadowy outline of a large men and she choked on her own scream, trying to scramble away.

"Whoa, whoa, careful, don't move!" Two strong hands, but tender to the touch, gripped her sides. She groaned in pain.

A Los Angeles Police Department officer looked down at her, his thick eyebrows knitted in concern and his dark brown eyes watched her carefully. "Careful now. I'm Officer Dameron. You stepped in front of my patrol car. I tried to stop but I couldn't make it in time." The man's face momentarily twisted in agonized guilt. "Please, keep still. Paramedics are on their way." The officer had removed his jacket and used it to make a pillow under Rey's head, but she was still shaking.

"Hey, get the blanket out of my patrol car!" Officer Dameron yelled at his partner. In a moment, a silvery thermal blanket was fanned over Rey.

"What were you doing running in the middle of the street?" Officer Dameron asked, massaging her hands to keep them warm. He hesitated before he continued. "…and with a ninja sword?"

"I.." Rey grimaced. Her shoulder screamed and she bit her lip so hard, she nicked through the skin. She wasn't about to tell the officer that she was pretty sure the heir to Skywalker Enterprises was stalking her down Western Avenue. "Some hobo broke into my apartment, so I got scared and ran."

"With a ninja sword?"

Rey grunted as another shock of pain radiated down her arm. "It's the only thing I have. You ever experience being a mid-20s single woman in this town? You need something – ahh –" Fuck, that was really hurting now "—to protect yourself."

"What's your address? I'll send someone over to check it out."

Through clenched teeth, Rey hissed out her address and the officer spoke into his radio for a 10-14 at Rey's apartment, advising to use precaution as it was uncertain if the perp had a weapon.

An ambulance – thankfully, without its sirens on, because Rey was getting already embarrassed at the small looky-loo crowd that was gathering – screeched up behind the patrol car. A couple of handsome, well-built paramedics hopped out. Rey wanted to melt into the cement and die; she must have looked such a sight, banged and bruised up and shuddering under her stupid thermal blanket, with her growing entourage of good-looking men clustering around.

"Do you think you can walk?" Officer Dameron asked. Rey nodded, afraid something stupid would come spilling out of her mouth. With Dameron's help, she got to her feet and he guided her to the back of the ambulance.

"I really don't want to go to the hospital," Rey complained, even though her shoulder was probably swollen like a grapefruit at this point.

"Well, you did just get hit by a car," the red-headed paramedic said, flashing a pen light in her eyes.

"It wasn't very fast," Rey argued. "Besides, I didn't even lose consciousness. I think."

The other paramedic cuffed her arm to check her blood pressure then violated her ear to gauge her temperature. "97.8. You feeling a little chilly?"

"Yes," she mumbled.

Red-head tugged at the sleeve of her shirt to look at her arm and she yelped out in pain.

"We really should take you in to get this looked at," he advised. "It's bruised pretty bad. See?" He pressed a finger into her flesh and she almost saw stars.

"I really don't want to go to the hospital," she whined, her face flushing. "I don't even know if my insurance covers ambulance rides…" Her voice trailed off. Even though she figured her insurance probably covered a $6,000 ride in a red-and-white, she wasn't really ready to gamble that. Besides, the last place she wanted to be was flopped on a gurney and tended to two of LA's finest emergency responders while going braless under her ratty tee and wearing her coffee-stained yoga pants.

"We won't make you do anything you don't want to, but you really need to get checked out, especially if you hit your head," the other paramedic warned. "Is there someone you can call?

"My head is fine," she insisted. "There is someone but I left my cell phone at home."

"You can use mine," Officer Dameron piped up. Rey hadn't noticed him standing outside the ambulance door, his hat curled in his hands. He obviously still felt guilty about hitting her with his car. "I can take you to the hospital, too, if you'd like?"

"Yes, that," Rey exclaimed. "That is my option. Thank you." She batted away any offered help by the paramedics and climbed out of the ambulance, wrapped tightly in her tinfoil blanket like a burrito.

"I've got my partner en route to your place right now," Officer Dameron said as he opened the passenger side door of his patrol car. "He'll check it out."

"Thanks." Rey climbed in and he closed the door behind her, careful to avoid smacking her pained shoulder.

The crowd was thankfully dispersing, losing their interest as soon as they saw Rey getting escorted by the officer.

"Do you know which hospital your, uh, insurance will cover?" he asked, pulling away from the scene.

"Whatever's closer, doesn't matter," Rey answered shortly. Now her arm was really hurting.

Officer Dameron radioed to dispatch, babbling a string of ten codes and short speech that Rey didn't fully understand.

"Sorry for running in front of your car," she sighed. "I hope I didn't get you in trouble."

"I'll be fine," he shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time someone's run in front of a cop car. I'm just lucky you're not too badly injured. Hopefully."

They rode quietly for a few minutes, their silence only broken by the random spattering of the radio. Cars noticing a cop behind them suddenly became the best-behaved drivers in the world, which annoyed Dameron, since they were going exactly below the speed limit and keeping him from moving at a reasonable speed.

"Oh, hey, did you need to call anyone?" he suddenly remembered. "Parents? Friend? Boyfriend?" The last word was tossed in casually, but it had a certain hopeful weight in the tone.

"Err, my, um, aunt, probably," Rey said. "She lives in town. Closest relative I've got here."

"Be my guest," he said, swiping his phone screen on and handing the device to Rey.

Rey gratefully accepted the phone, admiring the background photo where a scruffy and smiling Officer Dameron was standing in front of a Cessna 152. "Is that your plane?"

Dameron grinned like a goofy father, happy to show off his kid. "That's my baby! Don't take her out nearly as much as I'd like to, with my job and all. But getting my private pilot's license was almost as good as becoming a cop. Maybe better."

Rey smiled appreciatively, despite feeling a little ball of sadness bubble inside. One of her few memories she had with her parents were the times they'd go to the local air field and watch the small planes take off. It was always her dream to learn how to fly, but after her parents and aunt died, a lot of her dreams died with them.

Sighing, she punched in one of Leia's numbers that she had the foresight to memorize. After a few rings, Leia's sleepy voice answered.

"Hey, Auntie, it's me," Rey said, suddenly nervous. She felt like a naughty kid, calling for help after getting herself into trouble. She didn't know why she was so upset to call; maybe the adrenaline was wearing off.

"Rey? Rey, what's wrong? What number are you calling me from?" Leia sounded very much awake now.

"I-I'm okay, it's okay," Rey said. "I'm calling from a very nice police officer's phone. He's taking me to the hospital—"

"The hospital?! Oh, my god, what's wrong?" There was a shuffling of covers as Leia jumped out of bed. "I'm on my way, where are you going?"

"Le—Auntie, I'm okay. Bruised my shoulder bad but I'm going in just to get checked out."

"Checked out for what?!"

"Umm, I got hit by a car. By a cop car. Just a little bit."

There was an exasperated sigh that only a mother could emit. "Rey, which hospital? I'll meet you there."

"Good Samaritan."

"I'm on my way."

###

An hour-and-a-half later, Rey found herself on a hospital bed behind a curtain in the urgent care center of the Los Angeles Good Samaritan Hospital. Officer Dameron hadn't left her side, except for when she had to strip down to the flimsy hospital gown and when he went to get some hot chocolates from the vending machine for the two of them.

"You know, you don't have to stay here with me," Rey told him. "I'm sure my aunt will be here any minute."

He shook his head, firmly. "It's my fault that you're in this mess. The least I can do is keep you company."

Rey tucked the blanket tighter around her feet. She had no socks and the hospital wasn't exactly a warm place. "I'm not going to press charges or file a complaint or anything," she reassured him. "It was an accident."

Officer Dameron's stance relaxed, just a tad. "Well, Miss Rey –"

"Just.. Rey, Officer Dameron."

"Then Poe, Just Rey." Poe smiled warmly.

The curtain abruptly ripped open to reveal Leia and Chuy, the latter of whom eyed Poe warily and emitted a low, brief growl.

"Rey, are you alright?" Leia exclaimed, hurrying to Rey and looking her over. She tutted in concern when she noticed the blue sling that held Rey's right arm close to her body.

"I'm fine, I'm just waiting for the results of the X-rays. I should be able to go soon if everything is fine," Rey mumbled, embarrassed over Leia's dramatic response.

"Are you the officer who hit my girl?" Leia said accusingly, her attention shifting to Poe on the other side of the bed.

"It was an accident," Rey hurriedly interrupted. "It was my fault. I ran a red. Don't blame him."

"What were you doing running in the middle of a busy street at this ungodly hour?" Leia looked like she wanted to strangle her, notwithstanding the girl's injury which probably hurt just as much as a good old-fashioned throttling.

"There was a prowler in her apartment," Poe said. "We had it checked out. There's definitely signs of a break in."

The entire demeanor of Leia shifted. "You're coming home with me," she told Rey. It wasn't an offer; it was a command.

A doctor peeked around the curtain. "Miss Jacks? May I?" Leia and Chuy stepped aside to permit the doctor to walk into the now-cramped space.

"Your X-rays came back fine. Nothing but a little bump on your head, no fractures or anything to be concerned about. Your shoulder is fine, too, but really bruised. I'll write you a script for 800 milligrams of ibuprofen. Once that shot we gave you wears out, you'll want to take the pills as prescribed. The swelling should subside in a few days, but ice it when it starts to act up." The doctor glanced around, her eyes unabashedly scoping out the group. "Do you have someone who can take you to the pharmacy and get you home?"

"Yes," replied Poe and Leia at once.

Rey resisted rolling her eyes. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

The doctor nodded. "The nurse will be around with your script and release paperwork shortly. Glad to see you turned out to be okay." She snapped the curtain shut behind her.

"Wow, icy," Poe commented. "Talk about needing to work on her bedside manner."

"Speaking of bedside, let's get you ready to go and in bed at my place," Leia said, pulling Rey's clothes out of the hospital bag. "Sooner you're dressed, sooner we can get out of here."

"Looks like my work here is done," Poe said. "Again, Rey, I'm really sorry. Would you please contact me when you're feeling better? I'll need a statement for my report." He pulled out a business card and handed it to her. "At your earliest convenience."

"Sure," she said, accepting the card without looking at it. "Thanks for your help."

"My pleasure." He put on his hat and nodded at Chuy and Leia. "Sir, ma'am." And with that, he was gone.

"Where's that damn nurse?" Leia muttered impatiently.

Chuy warbled a reassuring sound and patted Leia on the back.

Rey fiddled idly with the card, flipping it between the fingers of her left hand. "I'm sorry," she said, quietly.

Leia glared at her, eyes aflame.

"I shouldn't have left like that tonight," Rey said in a barely-audible whisper. "The whole ordeal with Ben left me feeling... unsettled. And I think he—or someone – followed me home. It wasn't a random burgle. Leia, I'm scared."

Leia sat down at the edge of the bed and took Rey's hand. "Rey, you must stop pushing us away. You've been with us for months, now. Please, trust us. I don't want you to get hurt. We wouldn't have sent you in if we didn't think you were ready." She tucked a strand of hair behind Rey's ear. "Believe me that I want the best for you. They know where you live now. These are very dangerous people we're dealing with. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you."

"Then tell me more. Don't leave me in the dark. I need to know everything. What I've gotten myself into. I know there are things that you aren't telling me."

Leia sighed, dejected. "Rey, not yet. Not now. Not when Ben is supposed to make contact with you tomorrow. That would make you vulnerable. Especially since we don't know what he gleaned from you."

"So you ask me to trust you but you don't trust me." Rey huffed and turned away from Leia, dropping Poe's business card on the floor. She climbed out of the bed, stomping her feet for good measure, and retrieved the card.

Leia pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes briefly before getting up and pacing around the little room. "No, Rey, that's—"

"Leia."

"—Rey, come on, of course we trust you, but—"

"Leia!"

"—we can't just share everything with—"

"Leia, look!"

Leia stopped in her tracks and turned around to face toward Rey.

In the girl's outstretched hand, she held out Poe's business card. The back of the card faced Leia, and in sloppy handwriting was "PERSONAL: 213 555 1010." But below it, something else. Something of only few would understand.

Scratched under the phone number was a starburst with a tall point, surrounded by two wings. It was a symbol. A calling card.

The Hoth rebellion secret insignia.

Leia's throat tightened. "He knows."