Rey looked down at the vast expanse of sand below her and she gunned the Falcon down towards Jakku's surface. It had been a long, long time since she had seen her home planet, and seeing it now gave her a surge of mixed feelings. Sadness, at the years she had spent, waiting. But also, a kind of relief. She's felt so lost since the loss of the boy, it was reassuring to see something so familiar. Like it or not, it had been home, and in a way, it always would be.

BB-8 burbled and tweeted alongside her as she took the freighter into land. "Take the droid," Poe had said, as she had explained why she was leaving for a little while. "I need you safe, as I need you to come back." He hasn't fully understood, she knew, but equally he realised she needed to take some time out. The dark hurt in his eyes also showed another type of disappointment. He cared for her, she knew.

After the First Order's discovery of their base, the Resistance had taken to the skies for several months, keeping moving as they figured out their next steps. Poe had proved to be an excellent General, as Leia no doubt had known he would. He had worked tirelessly these past few months to keep the team safe, as well as grow it beyond expectations.

Thanks to his work, the Resistance had grown not just in numbers, but also in ships, supplies, and vitally - allies. It was now developing to be a true force to be reckoned with.

Exactly when that reckoning would take place, however... that was yet to transpire. News of the First Order was patchy. They also seemed to be holding back, waiting for.. something.

Rey felt a thump as the Falcon landed on the soft sand dunes alongside her old hideout. She stood, and walked heavily towards the ramp. For a moment, she stood half in, half out, feeling the hot breeze of the dunes on her face. She closed her eyes.

It'd been so much less simple for her than for Poe.

After the loss of the boy, Rey had known clearly that the redevelopment of the Jedi Order was not her path to follow. As much as it pained her, she had recognised that not only was she not ready to develop the next generation of Light users, the times were equally not right.

Force development had always happened in either war time or during high tensions between the Dark and Light, and this had always had a huge impact on the padawan themselves as they tried to mould themselves to either.

Luke himself had recognised it. Trying to force the Force, essentially, ended in failure. It could no longer be harnessed for war. It was too...personal. It could only really be harnessed by a person's heart.

But where does this leave me? Rey had thought so many times to herself as she had laid in her bunk on the Falcon as they Resistance moved from star scape to star scape. It was still a question she asked herself. In the end, she knew she needed to get away, to try and wrestle some sort of answer from herself. What part does the Force play in all this, if its not to fight?

She knew in her heart she was still a soldier. She knew she wanted to develop her own skills to fight for, and defend, the Resistance and all it stood for - democracy, compassion, protection of the innocent...

But she didn't want to lead a religion. But was that giving up? Was she, afterall, really the last Jedi?

She opened her eyes again and stepped out into the sun. Then slowly, she walked down towards her old hideout.

The ship was still covered in sand, its remnants bleached by the beating sun. It was even more stripped than it had been previously. As she moved inside the hull, she immediately noticed the hundreds of scratches she had made on metal panelling inside. A scratch for every day she had waited for her parents to return.

You're nobody.

She heard his low tenor, almost as if he was still here with her. She'd been so hurt when he had outlined the truth to her, so cruelly. She could see his dark eyes on her. But however he had said the words, there had been honesty there. She knew in her heart, he had been right. Her parents had barely existed, and had barely cared.

But not to me.

She pressed her lips together and moved him from her mind. It was no good. He also believed her cared for her, she knew this. Again, it felt like an honest belief. But his understanding of care was so warped, so damaged - she was no fool.

It wasn't care. It wasn't love. It was just a mangled recognition that she had once been as lonely as him.

Was still as lonely?

Rey shook her head. She had learnt long ago that wallowing in her sadness never helped.

He made his choice though. He had acted like a spoilt child, afterwards, raging as he always did. And now, presumably, he was the Supreme Leader. And surely, lost to the ages.

Though Leia had said...

Save him.

Suddenly, Rey was interrupted by the sound of clanking outside. Recognising the unmistakable sound of the Falcon's hull, she quickly rushed out, to be met with the vision of a small, elderly man, tapping on the side of her freighter with a metal bar.

"Hey!" she cried. "That's my ride."

The old man stepped back, quickly, his white, wiry eyebrows raising in surprise. "Sorry," he said, not unkindly. "I thought it was..."

"Junk, yes..." replied Rey, her irritation plain on her face. "But its not for scrap."

"Plainly," replied the man, and he started to move away. He wore only a simple backpack, and seemed to be on foot.

"Hang on!" cried Rey, suddenly. She was suddenly struck with the need to talk to this man. He was clearly a scavenger, just like she had been. Something in her needed to connect with him, though she had no idea why.

"How are things here?" she asked, "Is Unkar Plutt still living off scavenger sweat? The monster."

The old man turned and looked at her, quizzically. "You've been away a while, huh?"

It was Rey's turn to look confused.

The old man continued, "Plutt's long gone. Three months or more. There's a new King."

"Really?" replied Rey. "Who?"

"The Sand King. Our Amghar. But he's no Plutt."

"Worse?"

The old man smiled. "No. He's a King, like I said. A true King. He came here a while ago, and threw that Crolute out. Took his wealth, and built a town for us. Hired the best of us, those who wanted to work, to make something. So now we have a town, a King, and...lives."

Rey looked at him, incredulously. She had waited years, for something to happen. And when she left, it did.

"You thought I was a scavenger," continued the old man. "I was. But now I make things with what I find. I sell them, here and further away." The old man suddenly pulled an exquisite metal sculpture from underneath his robes. It was a sculpture of a Fathier, one of those beautiful racing beasts she had heard so much of, shaped from hundreds of tiny wires of reworked metal, and polished so it shone like a mirror.

"And we have the real thing, too," he said. "Fathiers. We race them, and breed them. The very best in the galaxy - you wait. Because we look after them." He smiled, and she realised the old man was telling the truth. She looked again at him and noticed, for the first time, his clothes were not the rags of a scavenger, but a loose, well-made fabric, dyed in a shade of blue. He wore leather sandals on his feet.

"But come see for yourself," said the old man. "Just head for the monument, and then head for the sunset."

With a flick of his hand, he gestured to the horizon, where Rey could just make out a tall, sandstone obelisk rising into the sky.

The old man then whistled, and to her astonishment, a real Fathier thundered from around the corner to the old man's side. He leapt onto its back, and together, the two of them made off, the beast throwing up clouds of dust behind it as it headed off at considerable speed.

This isn't even home anymore, Rey thought to herself. She felt a pang of grief. But why I am I sad? This was a terrible place.

Without looking back, Rey stepped aboard the Falcon again, started her up, and did the quick jaunt towards the monument, as the old man had suggested.

Soon, she was standing in front of it. It was shaped from sandstone, and reached a good 40 feet into the air. It resembled a needle, with its base wider than its pinnacle, but it had substance. It felt.. meaningful. Rey started to walk around it, looking for something to tell her what this thing was for.

Suddenly, she noticed a tiny inscription on the base stone, written in a simple, bold script.

For the people we lost, or gave away.

Rey's eyes welled up, and she began to cry.