Chapter 12 - Good Second Impressions

Jakku

Anchorite Ridge

Rey had left at first light while her two guests were still fast asleep, or at least what she presumed was sleep for them. Rey wasn't much of a sleeper nowadays, often finding herself waking up at odd hours and having to work herself back to slumper. Many times over, she would wake to find herself slump over her workbench; a clatter of power tools and grease oil splatter over her. She wasn't entirely sure what woke her, as it was something… different, each time around. It was always a dream, yes, but a different dream; sometimes of happier, joyful times that turned to dust when she tried to hold onto it, or something… something she fought hard to forget, to push away to the back of her mind.

Fortunately, it wasn't a dream that woke her in early hours of the morning. It had been snoring. Finn hadn't come inside after the night before, prefering to reluctantly slump to sleep against the armored bulkhead of the AT-AT. It'd been especially cold tonight, but Finn seemed to just ignore the cold. Granted, he was curled up into something of a ball. The image had almost made her laugh, but it just as quickly choked in her mouth.

For a long several moments, she watched the sleeping trooper. She felt something of a sharp pang of guilt run through her. Yes, they'd gotten off on the wrong foot, and yes the man hadn't been exactly the most gracious of guests… but he wasn't wrong for doing so. She sighed. She wanted to explain the situation, wanted to tell more than just half truths and vague answers… but was it wise for her to do so? Yes, Poe was a New Republic flyboy, and one that she knew from reputation. But what about Finn?

She shook her head. She'd been alone for so many years now. Alone, yes, but alive. That much her instinct told her, and that same instinct had been the thing she'd trusted for so long. But was she wrong? Was she right to judge him as such? Had he not done enough by his actions before?

If her father had been here, he probably would've given his aged old wisdom of judging one by actions, not affiliation. By looking at them in the here and now, rather than in the past. Of course, her mother might have countered with some witty remark, probably something about giving a man cred and watching what he would do with it. The memory of her, and of her father, made her smile. And just quickly, it collapsed into a silent, momentary sob.

She breathed in hard after a while, wiping away her eyes which had stained with the motor oil and sand over her cheeks. As she wiped them away with a towel, she eventually shrugged and grabbed a thick woolen blanket. Silent as the shifting sands, she wrapped it around the trooper's body, his skin cold to the touch. Immediately, he curled up with it, and he muttered:

"Thanks, Slip…. tell Nines to keep it down..."

Then he nodded off again. It was at that moment that Rey saw the stains running down the sides of his face. It struck a chord with her. She blinked softly, her skin suddenly feeling cold. She stared at him for a long moment, unsure of what to think, or even what to do. She sat with him for an unstretched amount of time, just watching him softly muse in the slumber of the night. He was muttering something, his lips moving in some silent conversation, his head jerking slightly and his arm started to shake.

His breath paced suddenly, become fast and rhythmic until it turned into a pant.

"No…" she heard him mutter, "no… no, please. No…"

Her hand slipped into his, the cold biting her skin. It had been utterly instinctual, and she cursed to herself if he might wake. But he didn't. His breath slowed, his body slackened, and his grip on her hand tightened. And so she sat with him, eventually her head resting against his shoulder. She didn't know how long it was she sat there under the moon and under the stars. She didn't even realize that she was weeping, the long cold stretches running down her face and soaking into her clothes. She didn't notice, all her focus instead on the soft breathing filling her ears, and her eyes watching the slow ascent of the sun over the horizon; its subtle rise marked in bloody tones spread across the canvas of the sky.

It was at this moment when the gold perked the crimson to mingle with the blue and orange that she felt the trooper stifle and shuffle. She put her hand against his chest, feeling the drowsiness wearing, but entrenched still. She slowly shoulder his mass onto her and brought him inside until she settled him into his bunk. Amazingly, he continued to sleep despite it all, and she softly smiled. She watched him sleep for a few more moments until she sighed, and went to go and grab her bag.

BB-8 chirped softly. He'd stood guard over Poe's bed for the duration and he casted a curious look at her.

"Don't worry, little one," she whispered with a smile, "just going out. Got things to do, and things to get. Probably in that order, too. I dunno. Mind watching the house for a bit?"

If BB-8 could grin, he would've. Instead, he he drew out his plasma torch and performed a mock salute with it.

"Heh," she chuckled, "you are such a clown. You've even got the right colors."

And proud, the droid snickered at her, at least I ain't some kinda house wife or the family dog.

"Oh please. You're both."

How the blazes am I both?

"Because you're both cute and a genuine damsel in distress, you floating beach ball."

BB-8 jutted the torch her way, growling:

You get on and git, lady, before I decide to give you a nice smoke bath!

"Ooh, scary!" she grinned mockingly, waving her hand at him as she exited stage right. And with that, she mounted her old and venerable 74-z Speeder Bike and disappeared into the desert. An hour later, she closed within sight of Niima Outpost. Perched along the jutting cliffs overlooking the one time watering hole now minor spaceport, Rey watched the circulating stream of ships making landfall or taking off. Namely, the obviously military grade gunship touching down on the outskirts of town, it's gunmetal gray hull a sore sight in the crimson desert.

She frowned at the sight, especially when it deposited a full squad of white clad Stormtroopers headed by an officer dressed in gray and white fatigues. They were quickly met by the Niima militia, and the obvious exchange of questions such as "who are you" and "what do you want in this in banthaheap?" Indeed, Rey had a question of her own. How much was her employers confidentiality, and more importantly silence, worth?

In addition to her other reasons being here, that particular one found itself at the top of her list. She quickly wrapped her shemagh tightly around her face and finished her typical appearance with her reflective black goggles she'd fashioned from the visor of an old Imperial Stormtrooper helmet. A few minutes later, and she hid her 74-z in her usual hiding spot and walked the rest of the way into town.

"Home sweet home," Rey muttered to herself. Indeed, 'home', much like the rest of planet, was made out of cobbled together starships piece together with insta-homes and other scrap built shacks. Even the gateway itself was merely the red bumper piece off of some discarded Dreadnought. Still, life here had a charm to it, as it did in most backwaters away from what constituted civilized.

Dozens of workshops and traders, bazaar masters and con artists milled about the streets, boasting promising deals and luxury goods to the crowds of motley mixed species customers lining the sand whipped streets. The air filled the smell of oil, smoke and even the aroma of food that made Rey's mouth water a bit. However, what she was paying attention to primarily was gossip. Word was already spreading of the military transport that touched down on the outskirts of town, and half a dozen theories were already popping up.

As Rey marched determined and sporting a foul mood to her stride, she listened and analysed what she heard and what she could pick out. Fortunately, that much was easier with people generally staying out of her way and letting her pass uninhibited.

"Oy! Rey!" she heard the familiar voice of Jassus Joe, an Ithorian descended from a long line of other Joe's who all could boast having been one profession or another. At least this one had something of sense of humor considering his profession was selling specially made Snow Cones on a desert planet, "How you been, lass?"

She chuckled to herself as she turned over to him with her hands on her hips.

"Whachya want, Joe?"

"Wha'? Sayin' hi to a gal like you ain't reason 'nough for ya?"

"Joe, your charm is so thick I could butter toast with it. What do you want?"

"My machine's broke."

"Again!?" she exclaimed with mock frustration, "I just fix that thing a week ago!"

"Yeah well, apparently the life expectancy of my marvellous wonder's dropped to just about that," the Ithorian shrugged with what counted as a smile, "can ya help old Joe?"

"What's in it for me?" Rey asked, crossing her arms very business like.

"Free cones for the day."

"More."

"Um, till Friday?"

"More."

"The week?"

"You can't afford the week."

"Wha'? No, of course I can handle a week! I mean… surely, my machine's not worth that much?"

A broad smile crossed Rey's face.

"Tell you what, I'll take three days worth if you give me something else."

"Oh?"

"What do you know about the Stormtroopers outside?"

"Well, my cousin Joeb Joe tells me there was a patrol over at Geeza. My other cousin Jeese Joe also tells me that there was also one over by the trading spot at the Graveyard. And my second cousin Jeffie says-"

"Joe, how many cousins do you have?"

"How many do you need?"

She shook her head with a laugh, and got to work on the ice machine, opening up the panels to get a blow of smoke in her masked face.

"So, there are Bucketheads all over the place, eh?"

"So my cousins say."

"Well, does your multitudinous army of other Joe's tell you why they're here on Jakku?"

"Rumor is that they're looking for something."

"Something?" Rey asked, "Joe, if you're holding out on me, you can kiss your fabulous snow machine goodbye."

"No no no, please don't. The other Joe's will laugh at me silly if I fail me business prospects."

"Joe, you're trying to sell Snow Cones on a desert planet where temperatures routinely rise to a hundred and twenty degrees on a good day. Your business venture was dead the moment you came up with the laser brained idea."

"Lass, that's the point. A hundred and twenty? Who wouldn't want to sate their thirst on this dust heap oven of a planet, eh?"

"Even though you get more dehydrated eating the stuff?"

"Aye, an' that's where my other scheme comes into play!"

"Oh stars, Joe. What have you come up with now?"

"Well, I got a line on my cousin Jackus Joe! He's coming to fix me a nice line on ice cold tea supplements! Buy a cone and buy a drink! All here at Joe's Parlor! Sate ye thirst in the hundred and twenty degrees weather."

"Splendid. Now, what exactly are the Stormtroopers looking for?"

The answer was exactly what she was expecting and that was what troubled her. As Joe bid her a happy farewell and promises of the astonishing Snow Cones he'd synthesized, Rey took off at a half trot towards the the main market of town. She turned a corner and came face to face with the very same officer she'd seen outside of town. The man was younger than she would've expected, his face belonging to a boy but the eyes hard as a man. He looked her up and down and snorted.

"Out of the way, scavenger scum," and with that brushed past her, flanked by his bodyguard detail. Reluctantly, she hugged the wall as they marched past her, watching them go.

"He didn't tell them," she muttered in observation, and with that, she made her way into the dome structure that served as the obvious 'Hey, you! Land here!' marker for most ships coming into Jakku. The room was arid and hot, the air filled with hissing and priming of the dozen or so mechanics serving whatever their job demanded. And there in center of it all was her technical boss, Constable Zuvio.

"Good," Zuvio snorted when he saw her coming in, rearing his almost comically large eyes at her, "was wonderin' when you'd show. We need to talk, now."

And with that, he stepped his office, which was quite literally the only place with air conditioning on the whole of the entire planet.

"Close the door, if you please."

When she did, he slammed his mechanical hand into the table, adding yet another dent to it.

"You mind explaining to me why I just lied to a bunch of fascists with the most bizzare and borin' fashion choice ever?"

"Zuvio, really? You're complaining about fashion choices while you're wearing that ridiculous excuse of a hat?"

He protectively groped his shield hat, and snarled.

"You're lucky this table is between us."

"Are you going to threaten me with your foot again?"

"Dear, the only reason why you haven't gotten the swift kick in the tuckus that everybody else here in this hobble of my domain has gotten is because you've been especially useful to me. But it appears that's changin'. It also appears you have a vacancy sign on your very fine rump that's just begging for a swift kick!"

"Now now, I would prefer you not add to your arthritis by trying to kick me around. I may be great with old machines breaking down but so much with old and cranky constables."

"I don't care. If I break off my leg, I will just take it and beat you to death with it."

"Charming."

"Charmingly dead, like everybody else on this planet, including my very meticulous business model! Which you've managed to endanger by being a softie! What did we say our golden rule was?"

"Making cred?"

"No! I mean yes! I mean… oh for Stars sake, why are the First Order looking for those two vagrants you decided to settle up with like you were their damn landlord?"

"I dunno."

"You lie."

"Gosh, you're smart."

"Y'know, I'm about this close from kicking your samaritan, smart-mouthed tuckus all the way up to Coruscant!"

"And probably beyond that, at this point. Why don't we make it Naboo and call it even?"

"Oh no. It ain't going to be even until you crash right back into Tatooine where you belong, missy!" he then slumped down wearily into his seat, his head in his hands, "Just when I thought Kangiklub was bad. Now these guys."

"Would it make you feel better that I had no idea they'd come looking?"

"No, not really. Look Rey, I won't pretend that I know you, your supernatural past or how the blazes you ended me up in this position. What I want to know is what you're going to do about it."

"What's the bounty worth?"

"Enough to renovate this settlement and actually make it respectable. I'd cut you in, of course."

"Zuvio," she leaned over the table, squaring up the Kyuzo with hard eyes, "you're right. You don't know me or where I've come from or what I can do. But you know me enough never to ask me to do that."

"Which is why I'm asking: what are you going to do?"

She sighed, leaning back in her own seat as she shook her head.

"Besides getting off this planet? I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

"Poor girl," he said sarcastically, "always with her head stuck in the clouds, never wise enough to see the foot coming to kick her away."

"You've got an obsession, you know that?"

"'Course I do. What are you doing here, exactly?"

"Remember our deal with the Star Destroyer?"

"I do."

"The hyperdrives are old, but they'll work well enough. I'll need a handful of additional parts. After that, you can consider this my resignation of service."

Zuvio sighed, and reached into his desk to remove a key.

"I figured as much," he handed it over to Rey, who took it hesitantly, "I ain't gonna lie. I've sent you on a fair share of suicide runs I ain't had no right to ask of you. Yet you did anyways. I've been a terrible boss, and you've put up with me, all things considered. Hell," he held up his robotic arm, "you even made me this."

"Well, you did give me a place to stay and a job to keep me tied down, so that makes us even."

"Yeah, I suppose. I'm guessing it'd be pointless to offer a raise?"

"Sorry, Zuvio. It's time for me to go."

"I suppose it is."

With her business concluded at Niima Outpost, Rey had made the return trip home. Unfortunately, ten minutes out, the engine had combusted into a cloud of smoke.

"Oh come on!" she cursed as she hopped off the thing, "This is the third time in two weeks you've done this to me," she emphasised her point by landing a kick on the engine compartment before slumping to the ground with a groan. She looked sideways at the 74-c and muttered, "y'know, I'm about ready to just toss you into a ditch and set you on fire. Do me a lot more good that way than you getting me halfway anywhere before stranding me out in the middle of nowhere!"

The craft seemed to groan in apprehension. Rey sighed, and looked up at the heavens. It was a clear overcast and it was still noon, which meant she didn't have to worry about some spontaneous storm looking to bury her under tons of sand. She could operate on it here, or walk it home. But in the back of her mind, she didn't look forward to doing either, but especially not the latter.

"Plenty of time," she grumbled to herself as she rose to her feet and plucked her tool kit from the back compartment of the speeder bike, "oh, plenty of time to fix this accursed thing, find a way to get off this planet, hope we don't get shot by Stormtroopers, or betrayed by Zuvio, or have some giant damn asteroid come out of nowhere and maroon us on some hot and arid little speck of the universe where everything is trying to kill us. Oh yeah, plenty of time," she sighed and shook her head as she dropped under the speeder and got to work, "oh suck it up, you drama queen. Life's not fair, deal with it and all that junk and… gah!"

Upon opening the engine compartment, her face was once again treated to a cloud of soot and smoke. Only this time, she hadn't been wearing her face wrap and now her face was once again covered entirely in the thick and oily black stuff. Except of course for her eyes, which had still been goggled on principle. These she pulled out, slumping into the soft sand underneath in an exhausted heap as she just looked at nothing in particular.

"What interdimensional, all-powerful hermit being did I tick off to be saddled with my sorry excuse for luck?"

"In my experience, there's no such thing as luck."

She looked upward to see Finn staring down at her. With a shake of the head and a grin, she chuckled.

"Funny you of all people should be saying that- wait, what are you doing here?"

"Just walking, I suppose."

"Walking?"

With that, she scrambled up like a mad cat, looking everywhere at once.

"Why are you out here? Why are you not back at the walker?"

"I…um," he scratched the back of his shaved head, looking for an answer, "well, I needed to think."

"Think?" she asked bemused, "About what, exactly?"

"Me," he replied stone faced before he gestured to the smoking bike, "do you need a hand with that?"

"I…" she sighed before reluctantly nodding. She then tossed him the tool kit and got back under the bike, asking for various tools as they went. It was slow going and was filled much with Rey's half-whispered vulgar cursing that strangely reminded Finn of his old instructors. He watched her work, almost fascinated by her and her working through the mechanical processes. It reminded him of… Slip. His subsequent sigh and slump into the desert floor was audible.

"Hey," Rey looked up at him, "you okay?"

"You remind me of someone."

"I do?"

"Yeah… ahem, someone I used to know."

Rey watched his eyes slant groundward.

"Is that a good thing or bad?"

"I guess… a bit of both."

Rey watched him for a long stretch as he looked at nothing in particular, doing nothing in particular. But his mind, his face, it was all confused. She was about say something when an electrical line shocked her.

"Ow!" she cursed as she shook her hand, "Hey, can you hand me the compensator? No no, that's the pulse line fixer."

"Um," Finn held up both tools for her to see, "they look the same."

"No they don't, silly," she giggled as she pointed at them, "that's the compensator, that's the pulse line."

He looked at her blankly.

"They look exactly the same."

Now it was Rey's turn to look at him blankly.

"Do you see the sensor modules on the bottom?"

"Yes?"

"Do you see one's green and the other's red?"

He deadpanned her.

"I'm not an idiot, you know."

"I… I didn't say you were."

"It sounded like it. Is there even a difference between the two?"

Rey looked as though she'd been insulted.

"Um, yes there happens to be a pretty big difference between the two! It's like comparing a star head and a flattie."

"They're both drivers."

"Your point, exactly?"

"They're both technically the same tool, and serve the same purpose."

"What? No they're-look, just gimme the damn tool already!"

Exasperated, Rey snatched the compensator from him and went to work, muttering something Finn couldn't quite catch, and then threatening to see fire to engine again.

"You know, threatening an inanimate object won't get it to cooperate faster."

"Yeah? Well, it makes me feel better. Stupid, damn compressor line. I've replaced it, welded it in place and done all manner of fusing without attaching technical tape to it, and it's still breaking down on me."

"Maybe you should try technical tape. You'd be surprised."

"Oh no, I refuse. My mom used to say that if you resort to tape, you might as well just toss it out and start anew."

"I don't know about that."

Rey looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, "You dare refute my mum's wisdom?"

"Where I come from, you learn to be creative."

"Y'know, my dad would've liked you."

"Oh?"

"Well, either before or after he gave you the 'dad talk'."

"What?" Finn asked.

Rey grinned, "You know when a father gives his daughter's suitors an intimidating talk?"

"Um… well, the Stormtrooper Corps never really had to worry about that," he replied, rubbing the back of his head, slightly flustered, "we were married off when we reached our thirties, so we could have children."

"If I may ask, what would your kids become, exactly?"

"The next generation of warriors... or, whatever else the First Order would have needed of them."

"So… your children belong to the state?" she asked, her eyes growing slightly wide.

Finn shrugged, "That is the idea, they are the next generation. The First Order molds them into whatever they need to be."

Rey shook her head, "That's horrible! If my father had to do that, oh he'd give the government hell and quite frankly so would I."

"Then you would die braver than most."

"Better that than to willingly give my kids to slavery."

"Slavery?" Finn voice become distant with the word though he quickly regained his composure, "You would call service to a higher cause slavery?"

"Not if it's of your own free will. Look at your friend, Poe. He joined the Navy of his own free will because…" she paused a moment, and her eyes suddenly darted left, but it so quick Finn wasn't sure if he'd just imagined it, "well, I have no idea why he joined. You're going to have to ask him why."

"Rey, his reasons are no different than my own. He believes in his cause. He's a patriot."

"You say patriot, and yet here you are. Betraying them. Helping a man you barely knew. Being hunted by your own."

"I…" he began but he found no words in that moment, "did he tell you?"

"No," she replied, rising from underneath the speeder and sitting across from him, "he didn't need to. I've… seen the look before."

"Look?"

"The look men had when they came back from war. From seeing things they could never unsee. Things they'd done they… they wished, more than anything, they could take back."

Finn nodded somberly, watching her for a moment.

"You had that look, too," he said, her eyes rising to his, "when you had me at gunpoint."

She did not reply.

"What did you see, Rey? What did you do?"

"I…" but the words died in her throat. She shuddered slightly, her mind, her body and her soul become cold, and in that moment, their eyes met. Met and withheld in the other for long stretching moments before Rey's eyes darted downward.

"I um, should probably finish fixing this… uh," she quickly dived back under the speeder again.

"I am sorry for what I said the night before," Finn said suddenly, "you saved our lives and I acted like an idiot."

"You have every reason to be suspicious, but so did I. I haven't exactly been entirely forthcoming with you either."

"That doesn't excuse how I acted," Finn replied, his face growing long and his eyes sealing from shame. Then he felt Rey's hand touch his, gripping it tightly. He opened his eyes, finding her close to him. Looking at him with eyes full of sympathy and even understanding.

"Finn… there are things you don't know about me. Things you have a right to know. I think that…" she swallowed, "that after I am done here, I will tell you both the truth. The truth about me. I promise."

Finn looked down at the hand holding his, the touch feeling alien to him. And yet… he looked at her, their eyes meeting again, and he nodded.

"Need anymore help, then?"

"Yeah," she answered with a grin, "pass me phase cutter. It's the-"

"I know which one that is," he held up the tool with a smile.

"Heh," she chuckled, "you are learning."

A minute later, the speeder roared to life.

"Any chance this bucket of bolts will fall apart on us again?"

Rey grinned broadly to him, "Probably. C'mon, hop on."

"Um… I'm not exactly comfortable riding back seat."

"Oh come on. Leave your manly dignity aside for one minute. Besides," she smiled slyly at him, "no one's around. Who am I going to tell?"

"...Fine."

And with that, he climbed onto the speeder's backseat, his strong arms wrapping her middle as she kicked in the throttle.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Rey asked.

"For…" he sighed a moment, "for everything, I suppose."

Rey smiled back at him, "You're more than welcome."