It took the better part of the afternoon to work her way out of the wrecked ship, and by the time she emerged into the heat of the desert, aching from her fall and covered in decades-old dirt, the sun was hanging low in the sky. She squinted up at the sun, trying to calculate the time while simultaneously reaching for her water bottle.
Draining the last few mouthfuls of her water, she broke out into an easy run across the sand, back toward the trading post.
During her many years as a scavenger, scrambling to and from the giant ships that littered Jakku, Rey had determined that a running pace was far preferable to walking the miles back to the trading post. It was faster, for one, and although she tried to pretend otherwise, she was always impatient to be back among the other scavengers at the trading post. There was enough loneliness back home, in a solitary room of a gutted old AT-AT. Scavenging was also a competitive business, and whatever kindness the older scavengers had shown to her as a girl was long gone. The faster she moved, the faster she could collect her rations, and the less likely she was to be caught by anyone unfriendly.
As she cut between two especially large sand dunes, Rey allowed her mind to wander back to the unusual events of the afternoon. The skin beneath her dirty tunic was already showing signs of heavy bruising, an unwelcome reminder of a fall which she should not have been able to walk away from. And then there was the matter of the lightsaber, and the voices which called out her name.
It couldn't have been chance. Rey had heard the stories from the merchants who passed through Plutt's trading post. Lightsabers were a fabled Jedi weapon, and after the fall of the Republic there were only a few left in existence. She mentally counted off the Jedi knights whom she remembered. Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan…something, Darth Vader… Did he count? There were more, but their names eluded her. It had been years since she had heard the stories.
Her pace began to slow as the lights of the trading post came into view. In the amber light of the late afternoon, it almost looked peaceful, as if she truly were coming home. The thought fell out of her head as she got closer, close enough to make out the figures of stormtroopers guarding Plutt's home and patrolling the streets.
It was sickening.
Jakku was her prison in the shape of a planet, but it was still her home. And Rey did not take kindly to her home being invaded by intergalactic bullies. She squared her shoulders as she strode past the silent troopers, her head held high and eyes steadily looking straight ahead.
She arrived at Plutt's stall far to soon for her liking. In spite of their mutually beneficial work arrangement (mentally she pushed away the words indentured servitude and slavery), he was far from her favorite person at the trading post. Called "The Blobfish" behind his back, he was a ruthless boss and generally unsavory character. And with the presence of the First Order troops on Jakku, his once meagerly supplied rations had dwindled to hardly nothing at all. Rey, despite being one of the best in her trade, was among those existing in debt to Plutt for extending portions despite nothing being scavenged.
The lightsaber could be her salvation, though. If she bargained well, it could not only get her out of debt but stocked with rations for another week or more.
In the swiftly darkening market fires were being lit, and the air cooled rapidly around the line of scavengers waiting hopefully for their evening portions. It slowly shortened, dwindling down to the last few stragglers. With each passing minute the line shortened, and the memory of holding the lightsaber burned Rey's resting hand as though she still held it. Suddenly the outside noise seemed to pause, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
Rey. The voices were different this time. Urgent. You must not give up the saber. You must learn to use it. Only then can you control your own destiny.
As quickly as they had come, the voices faded, and the ordinary noise resumed. She blinked, slowly, trying to process the events of the day. She needed to get rid of the lightsaber. Perhaps then things could return to normal. They might even be good for a while.
It was finally her turn at the stall. Plutt turned to her, spittle dripping down his chins as he spoke.
"Ah, little Rey. Find something today?" he taunted, his foul breath washing over her. Rey grit her teeth but said nothing, casting her eyes toward her feet. "I've been disappointed with you" he growled.
Rey opened her mouth to defend herself, to prove him wrong, but stopped short as the words of a disembodied voice crept back into her mind. Fulfill your destiny. What was her destiny, anyway? Surely it couldn't be scavenging for the rest of her life, surviving on meager rations and the hope that the distant memory of abandonment and a promise of return would prove true.
Even as her stomach growled in protest, Rey made her decision. She was in control. The saber was hers. It had practically called to her in the ship, whatever that meant. And besides, Plutt needed her. She was his best scavenger, his largest moneymaker. Even he wasn't stupid enough to abandon her.
She turned her eyes back up to meet Plutt's watery grey ones. He leaned over the counter. "Do you have anything to give me?"
Biting her lip, Rey wished for a moment that the lightsaber had never come into her possession, and that she couldn't hear the voices whispering in her ear to leave this place and learn to use the weapon she now carried. But the moment passed, and she heard herself speaking.
"No. No, I still haven't found anything valuable."
Instead of the angry grimace she was expecting, Plutt broke out into a wide smile. "That's what I was hoping you'd say."
With a gesture almost too fast to be noticeable, he gestured for the two stormtroopers on either side of the hut, and they fell upon her with nearly inhuman speed. She screamed, struggling against them, but in seconds she was beaten and lying on the packed dirt in front of Plutt.
He stood over her, looking almost repentant, if that was possible. "You see, you've become a liability instead of an asset. I can't keep feeding the likes of you around here, hoping that you'd finally find something useful in those old wrecks." Here he cleared his throat. "I need my payday, and I'm getting it." He looked over at the troopers "She's all yours." With those last words he turned on his heel and lumbered away.
Rey screamed once more as she was dragged to her feet by the stormtroopers. "Please, someone, help me!" she cried, but the few passing people either didn't hear, didn't care, or were simply too frightened to look up. As she prepared to shout again, a warm and slightly damp rag was thrust over her mouth. Not thinking, she took a deep breath in, and for the third time that day, Rey crumpled, unconscious, into a heap.