Chapter 2: It Has Begun
"It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word."
-The Call, Regina Spektor
23 ABY
Rey was very upset.
This was not an altogether unfortunate fact, as she was also rather scared and the anger helped disguise the fear. She had very clearly told Mr. Han and his friend, Chewie, that she wanted to stay on Jakku, and yet here she was, rocketing through hyperspace in a streaming blur of stars the way she had heard about in all of the old stories.
She understood that the plan had gone awry, and that returning to Plutt now would be a virtual death sentence, but she was still angry, in a petulant way that defied logic. The ridiculous nature of her misdirected rage irritated her further, leaving her with no recourse but to sulk in an empty corner while Han and Chewie entered coordinates in the ship's computer. She had heard them call it "the Falcon," and although she wasn't quite sure what a falcon was, she surmised that it must be a specific type of spaceship. Probably the kind with pieces falling off left and right, she thought. Insulting the ship made her feel a bit better, but also caused a twinge of guilt. To dispel her growing panic, she peeked out of her corner, fighting back a shiver.
"Let's not return to Naboo yet," Han was saying. "I just sent Leia a message about the lost cruiser and I want to give her some time to cool off. Besides, we can swing through and pick up that shipment for Luke that Lando contacted us about last week. He'll be glad to see the Falcon."
Chewie rumbled in agreement and the two fell into silence for a few moments before the sound of shuffling heralded their approach. Rey pretended to be preoccupied with something in her hands, and only looked up at the sound of the duo's arrival.
"Okay, kid?" Han asked, running a hand through his gray-flecked hair and rubbing the back of his neck.
Rey only scowled at him, fingers balling into fists. "Take me back," she hissed. "Take me back now." She itched to throw herself at him, to claw at his eyes, but years of living with Plutt had taught her the consequences of letting her emotions take over.
"Look," he began again. "I know you wanted to stay on Jakku to wait for your parents, but it's not safe for you there anymore. That Force-damned Crolute will want your head on a pike before he's satisfied. He had the right idea about getting the Falcon up and running again—she's a valuable craft, and we stole her right out from under him."
"Because that's what you do, isn't it?" Rey asked, narrowing her eyes. "You steal things, sneak around. Because you're smugglers. You're probably going to sell me too, aren't you?"
Han looked deeply offended and sank into a seat across from Rey's corner. "Is that what you think of us?" he asked, sounding a bit hurt. "For your information, we're not smugglers. Ex-smugglers, sure. But we dropped that gig almost twenty years ago. Besides, if you really thought we were so bad, why did you help us?"
Rey flushed in embarrassment. The truth was, she had been so caught up in the excitement of meeting the owners of her ship—because, yes, she thought of the Falcon as her ship after living on it for months—that she hadn't stopped to consider her motivation. She should have known that crossing Plutt would end unpleasantly, but something had pushed her to help the two strangers. She wasn't sure what that something was, but she could feel it practically boiling under her skin now.
Judging Rey's silence for what it was—uncertainty—Han continued placatingly. "Look, I know you're not happy to be here. But Chewie and I could really use another pair of hands to help keep this old girl running. And you have a way with the electronics. I've never seen anyone change a heat coil that fast. Chewie was telling me that there have been extensive repairs to the hyperdrive compressor and main thrusters. I'm guessing that was you too?"
At Rey's begrudging nod, he continued. "Clearly you're a bright kid. I think we can help each other. My wife is a…diplomat of sorts. That means she has lots of connections. If anyone can locate your parents, she can. What do you say you cruise with us while she does her best to find them?"
For the first time since Chewie had dragged her, kicking and screaming, onto the Falcon, Rey felt a spark of hope bloom in her chest. If what this man said was true, she could be closer to finding her parents than she had been in nearly three years.
"Okay," she finally conceded, breaking the growing tension. "I guess you're right that you need another pair of hands. This rust-bucket is on its last legs."
Chewie growled in protest, throwing his paws up in frustration. "Watch it, kid," Han admonished. "We might be friends, but no one insults the Millennium Falcon in front of me."
Rey froze, her grin dropping. "Did you say—that is, is this ship—is this the Millennium Falcon?"
"The one and only," Han declared proudly, patting the interior paneling fondly. "She's a little rough around the edges, but she's gotten us through many a pinch."
"Then that means you're…you're the Han Solo. And that's the Chewbacca. You're—you're war heroes!" she breathed, face alight with excitement. "You helped win the Battle of Endor, and you—you saved Luke Skywalker's life! And your wife, the diplomat—she's Princess Leia Organa!"
"I think she prefers Senator Organa these days," Han corrected. "And between you and me, we've saved Skywalker's life more than once," he said, jerking a thumb in Chewbacca's direction.
Chewie huffed in amused agreement.
Rey gaped at the duo like a landed fish, trying and failing to grasp the concept that two of her lifelong heroes—stories of whom had circled Niima Outpost in secret whispers—were standing before her in the flesh. And what was more, she had helped them steal their ship back. Another exploit to add to the legendary history of Han Solo and Chewbacca.
"Catching flies, are we?" the former smuggler quipped. "Shut your mouth before your tongue rolls out, kid."
Rey snapped her jaw shut, still staring at him wide-eyed.
"Well, since you've agreed to the join the crew, let's find you a real bunk," he continued. "That little corner below decks won't—" he broke off suddenly, focusing intently on Rey's arm. "What's that?"
Rey glanced down quickly. Her arm-wrappings had loosened, revealing the top edge of her beaded leather bracelet. Brushing and stammering, she reached up to loosen its ties.
"S-sorry," she managed. "I found it on the ship after Plutt and his men stripped it. It must be yours." She fumbled with the clasp until Han dropped a hand over hers, stilling her motions.
"No," he said, voice sounding a little funny. "Keep it, it suits you. Speaking of which, I have something for you. The other end of our bargain." He reached into his left pocket and pulled out a square of waxy looking paper, worn around the edges with time and excessive handling. He extended the object to Rey, who took it with trembling hands. The folded edges felt alive under her fingers, and her heart jumped as she flipped it over to examine both sides.
The paper was, in fact, a photograph. In it, three smiling figures sat close together, arms around each other's shoulders. On one side was a younger version of Han Solo, his hair lacking its current streaks of gray. Rey spared him only a cursory glance before focusing on the woman on the other side of the picture. She was small and slender, which a heart-shaped face and rich brown hair that she wore woven into complex braids. Rey had never seen a picture of Leia Organa, but she suspected that this was the princess of legend. Like her husband, Leia's figure didn't capture Rey's attention for long. Instead her eyes traveled to the young boy squeezed between the smiling couple. His hair was long and curling and black as pitch. It shone like smooth velvet despite the poor quality of the photo. Rey had never seen velvet before, but she imagined that it looked like this boy's hair. She had also heard it was soft, and she felt the strange urge to reach into the photo and see if his hair was too. A straight nose, piercing brown eyes, and full lips gave him a look somewhere between angelic and roguish. She could see Han in the shape and brightness of his serious eyes, and abruptly, she knew.
"Ben?" she asked, pointing at the boy in the picture.
Han blinked in surprise. "How do you know that name?" he asked hesitantly.
"His name is carved under the bulkhead where I lived," Rey answered, not looking up from the picture. "B-E-N. This bracelet was his too, wasn't it?" She fingered the leather band around her upper arm carefully.
"Yes," Han said slowly. Rey looked up at his tone, catching a strange look in his eyes—the same indiscernible one he'd been giving her before, when he first caught sight of the bracelet.
"He's your son."
"Yes," Han said, seeming to regain his momentum. "He's ten in that photo—it was taken years ago. He's older now. Taller."
Rey grinned at Han's lackluster description. "You can have it back now," she said, holding the photograph out. "I only wanted to see it."
"Keep it, kid," Han responded, standing and brushing invisible dust off his knees. "You earned it. Now let's see about that bunk."
Han showed Rey to a small bunk next door to his own and indicated where she could place her things. She didn't have any things, so she just shrugged and surveyed her new home, rubbing the goose bumps sprouting on her arms.
"Sorry," Han said, shucking his jacket off. "I forgot how cold space is the first time around. We'll find something more your size when we meet up with my friend, Lando. Until then, this will have to do." He dangled the jacket out on a single finger. "That damn Crolute really did scour this place bare."
Rey hesitated. She had long since learned not to accept handouts, especially from near-strangers like Han. But he had thus far proven trustworthy—he and Chewie had had ample opportunity to abandon her in Plutt's shop but had instead chosen to stay back and rescue her. Besides, Han was right—space was cold, and all she had besides the clothes on her back where the few wretched rags and cushions she had gathered to line her nest belowdecks.
Swallowing her pride, Rey accepted the proffered article and slid it over her thin shoulders. The jacket smelled of leather, woodsmoke, and oil, and it was still warm from Han's body. It enveloped her completely, with the hem hanging past her knees while the sleeves trailed on the ground.
Han eyed her somewhat critically. "How old are you, kid?" he asked.
"I'm eight years old," Rey said clearly, meeting his gaze.
"You sure? You're pretty…tiny."
Rey scowled. "Small means less food, shouldn't you be grateful?"
Han looked disgruntled. "No," he said. "Not all employers starve their workers like Plutt. The sooner we get a good meal in you, the better."
Rey flushed and shuffled her feet anxiously, uncertain how to respond to Han's generosity.
"We should be at Cloud City in about twelve hours—why don't you get some sleep? I'll wake you when we drop out of hyperspace."
In the end, it was the rattling of the Falcon's sublight engines engaging that woke Rey. She crawled out of her hidden alcove, pulling Han's jacket more tightly around her ribs. After hours of tossing and turning on her bunk in the crew's quarters, she had given in and retreated below to her usual resting place. There, Ben's letters could keep watch while she slept. Rey briefly wondered how old—and tall—Han's son was now.
She clambered up to the main deck and stooped to replace the hatch before turning and nearly colliding with Han as he exited the bunkroom. He looked her up and down briefly, but didn't comment on her conspicuously empty bed.
"Chewie just received the landing codes," he informed her. "We should touch down in about ten minutes. Lando is an old friend of mine from before the war. We used to do business together, and now he oversees a lot of the trade routes in this part of the galaxy. He has a delivery of supplies for another friend of mine, out on Yavin 4."
"Luke Skywalker?" Rey asked, falling in step behind Han as he headed for the cockpit.
"You like eavesdropping, huh kid?" Han asked mildly. "Yeah, Luke. He's training a new generation of Jedi there, including my son."
The pilot slid into his seat, not noticing that Rey had frozen in the doorframe behind him. "Ben is…Ben is a Jedi?" she asked softly, shifting unconsciously.
Han glanced up, noticing her strange tone. "Well, an apprentice, sure," he confirmed. "He's been at the Temple for three years now. His mother was training him before that, until things…changed."
"Changed, how?" Rey inquired, drawing nearer until her head occupied the space between Han and Chewie's shoulders.
"It's complicated," Han replied evasively. "Why are you so interested in him, anyways?"
Rey shrugged, effectively ending the conversation. She thought she had seen a light in Han's eyes when he had looked at the photograph of his wife and young son, but it was absent at the mention of Ben the Jedi apprentice.
She strapped into one of the seats behind her employers, squashing down the sliver of disappointment that had arisen from her crushed hope that Ben would be a frequent visitor on the Falcon, or perhaps another crewmember. Even on an isolated planet like Jakku, tales of the Jedi circulated wildly, carrying with them an element of galactic folklore and mystique. Set apart by their austerity and rejection of attachment, the Jedi were a peace-keeping force whose members had no place aboard an ex-smuggling cruiser like the Falcon. Stories of the Jedi had always been Rey's favorite, when she had the opportunity to crouch near the village square and hear the old wisewomen speak of them. Despite her disappointment, it somehow felt right that Ben—whose name and figure she had come to associate with protection—was being trained to defend the weak. Maybe one day, if she met him, she could tell him about Plutt and the other scavenger-slaves who needed rescuing.
Rey's thoughts were interrupted as the Falcon entered the atmosphere of a pale-yellow planet.
"Welcome to Bespin, kid," Han said, easing back on the throttle.
Rey's jaw dropped in awe as she took in the sight before her. Columns, arches, and walls of shimmering clouds dominated the landscape. Each was cast in hues of red, yellow, pink, and orange by the rising sun. Han maneuvered the Falcon effortlessly lower, rounding a pillar of cumulonimbus and revealing a great silver city hanging in the air. Cloud City was shaped like an upside-down teardrop, its upper rim smooth and rounded while its lower half narrowed to a sharp point above the dense layer of fog below.
Han chuckled, clearly anticipating her reaction. "Lando always did have a flare for the dramatic," he commented dryly, circling the Falcon closer and dropping the landing gear as they entered a wide hangar.
As soon as the ship touched down, a team of service droids rolled out into the shuttle bay to begin repairs. Han deployed the main landing bridge and rose from his seat. Rey quickly followed, excitement making her hands fumble with her restraints. The trio descended into the hangar, Chewie to Han's right and Rey to his left, still draped in the heavy folds of his old leather jacket.
A handsome, dark-skinned man awaited them at the foot of the bridge. He wore a cerulean cape and matching shirt over dark parts and sturdy, buckled boots. Like Han, his hair was flecked with silver, but the brightness in his eyes hinted at an internal youthful energy.
"Han Solo, you old son of a bantha, you didn't tell me you had the Falcon back!"
"Just picked her up yesterday," Han said, a genuine smile passing over his face. "Some worthless junk-trader had her impounded in the middle of the desert on Jakku." He glanced down at Rey and winked. She grinned in response, appreciating his description of Plutt.
"And who's this?" Lando asked, gesturing to Rey. "I thought Leia said one was enough, after Ben? Don't tell me you've been hiding her all this time."
Rey flushed at the implication that she was Han's daughter, although she wasn't certain whether the response stemmed from embarrassment or pride.
"That would've have been a feat for the ages, given the amount of trouble she gets up to," Han quipped, reaching out to grasp Lando's hand. "The Falcon wasn't the only thing we found on Jakku. Lando, I'd like you to meet Rey. Rey, this is Lando Calrissian."
Rey shoved her sleeve back and extended her hand with all the confidence she could muster. She was shocked when Lando took it delicately and dropped a kiss on her knuckles. "A pleasure, Lady Rey," he said, smiling in a fatherly fashion. "You look like you could use a smaller jacket and a warm meal."
Rey's ravenous hunger must have shown in her eyes, because Lando tipped his head back and released a booming laugh. "Right this way," he said, sweeping an arm towards the hangar doors. "To Cloud City's finest. Han, Chewie, I expect the full story of your adventures over dinner."
Three courses later, Rey, Han, and Chewie sat at a booth with Lando in the back of a dimly lit but surprisingly clean eatery. A string quartet made up of the four most bizarrely different aliens Rey had ever seen crouched in the far corner, filling the room with the sweet, soft strains of a concerto.
"A Crolute scavenger station," Lando said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Didn't know those existed anymore. I imagine they were stripping ships left behind after the Battle of Jakku?" He directed the question at Rey, his dark eyes gentle.
Rey, who had never witnessed such a quantity of food in her young life, had eaten like a man faced with starvation. She was currently struggling to keep her meal down, unused to the richness of the fare. She simply nodded.
"Can't imagine that's a pretty establishment," Lando continued. "Although I'm not surprised you know your way around a ship after a few years as a scavenger."
Rey smiled wanly, and Han took over the conversation gracefully. "The important part is we know it's there now. I'm hoping the Republic will be able to spare a few ships to go down and check it out. I never did understand why anyone would try so hard to make a living on a planet where there's no living to be made. With any luck the rest of those kids can be evacuated to other worlds that can care for them."
Lando smiled broadly. "You might hate to admit it, old friend, but Leia sure has changed you. Is that a beating heart I see, under all that foul temper and disagreeableness?"
Chewie let out a barking laugh at his friend's expense.
Han instantly scowled. "Shut it, furball," he said. "I'm just being practical. Economically those kids can contribute a lot more to the Republic by doing real jobs than they can by sorting through scrap metal in the middle of nowhere."
"Sure, sure," Lando said, tipping back his glass to access an ice cube. His eyes twinkled with mirth as he met Rey's gaze. "What I want to know is how you got the doors on that shop to open, young Rey. I've seen setups like that one before—some people call them burglars' nooses. They're meant as much to keep intruders out as to trap thieves inside to await justice. Got caught in a similar situation myself once and spent a month behind bars as a result."
Rey fiddled with something in her lap, feeling intensely uncomfortable. The truth was, she could barely remember those panicked moments in Plutt's shop. She remembered sliding the decryption key out to Chewie, and the sound of his furious grunts as he hammered at the door catch. She remembered the taste of her own fear, metallic in her mouth, followed by the calming realization that she was probably going to die, or at least have a hand chopped off, like the poor boy who had finally starved two summers ago after lifting a few portions off of Plutt and having a limb removed for his trouble. She remembered laying both hands on the door, thinking I am going to die, before the durasteel of the latch suddenly glowed as if on fire. She remembered springing back, clutching her burnt palm to her chest as the door swung under the weight of Chewie's blows. It was all a hazy mess in her mind, and only three things stood out: the fear, the calm, and sting of heat under her hands. At the time she had assumed that the latch had been destroyed by laser fire, leading to intense heating. But according to Han's version of the story, Chewie's attack on the door had been totally fruitless. Whoever had fried the circuits in the door lock and caused them to disengage, it hadn't been him.
Rey blinked, realizing that she had been avoiding Lando's insistent gaze for more than a few seconds. "I'm uhh…not sure," she admitted. "I thought Han opened the door." It wasn't technically a lie, but she still felt a twinge of guilt at the omission of details. She didn't know how to explain to her companions the strange surge of strength that had flowed through her—through her, not from her—in the moments leading up to her escape. She wasn't sure how to make them understand her strange suspicion that she had somehow been responsible for the surge of heat. She glanced down at her palms, resting uselessly in her lap atop Han's folded jacket. They looked perfectly normal, except for a narrow crescent-shaped burn across the heel of her left hand.
Lando "hmmed" softly and released her from his stare. "Well, it's lucky things worked out as they did." He raised a hand to call over a server droid. "Let's see about getting you some supplies and clothes suited for space flight, shall we?"
Rey scampered after Han through a seemingly endless maze of opalescent white halls.
"You have everything Lando gave you?" he asked, throwing a glance over his shoulder. At Rey's nod, he reiterated, "You sure?"
Rey nodded again, impatient to be off.
"The droids should be done loading the Falcon in about fifteen minutes. You get settled while I finish some last-minute business with Lando." The two turned a corner and entered the hangar where the Millennium Falcon resided, looking considerably more distinguished following a round of repairs to its sandblasted exterior and failing engines.
Heeding Han's words, Rey darted up bridge, dodging several service droids in her hurry to reach her sleeping alcove. She piled her new clothes alongside the cracked pilot's helmet on her shelf of treasures. Her new employer had insisted on providing her with two of everything—tunics, leggings, and arm-wrappings, although he had looked at the latter a bit oddly as she wound a pair around her scrawny limbs. Sand doesn't just scour ships, she explained before he could ask. In a show of surprising generosity, Lando had even gifted Rey with a pair of supple leather boots that hugged her feet, and a small leather jacket—much like Han's—that fit her perfectly. Rey had begrudgingly returned her previous raiment, and already missed its comforting weight and smell.
In addition to outfitting their new recruit, Han and Chewie had equipped the Falcon with the trappings of comfort—thick woolen blankets to ward off the chill of space, bins of preserved meals that tasted astonishingly better than the rations of Jakku, and barrels of fresh water to be pumped into the ship's recycling stream.
Rey finished tucking her things away and meandered aimlessly to the upper deck of the ship. From there she strolled out into the hangar in search of something to do. A row of wooden crates awaiting loading—likely part of Luke's shipment—crowded the space surrounding the Falcon. Planning to offer assistance to the service droids currently shifting the supplies, Rey drew closer.
"I told you, Lando, she's just a kid and a talented mechanic." It was Han's voice, and something about his furtive tone made Rey want to stop and listen. She remembered Han's jab about her eavesdropping earlier, however, and was about turn away when she heard her own name.
"I know you're convinced that finding Rey on Jakku was a coincidence, but just think about it, Han," Lando's voice responded. "Ben has a vision of the Falcon in the middle of a desert—a vision that leads you to Niima Outpost—and all of a sudden this girl shows up who you've already told me has an affinity for everything the boy has touched?"
"It's not—you're leaping to conclusions," Han protested. "So, what, she's been living in that little nook he used to hide out in—all kids like crawling into small spaces. The bracelet could just as well have been mine. And the photograph—maybe she just guessed that I had something in my pocket. Sure, she's a little unusual but—" his voice cut off as the two seemed to walk further away.
"—all I'm saying—trying to convince yourself—ask Leia—"
A heavy, furred paw lowered onto Rey's shoulder and she spun around, head tipping back to take in Chewie's towering form. She could have sworn that, had the Wookie possessed eyebrows, he would have been raising them questioningly.
"I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean to—"
Chewie lifted his shoulders in an approximation of a shrug and beckoned her towards the Falcon. Rey followed, filled with a mixture of shame and disappointment, both that she had overheard the conversation to begin with, and that she had failed to hear more. Her head thrummed with questions. Had Han's son really had a vision that led him to Jakku? Why did Lando think that it had anything to do with her? More importantly, who did Lando think she was if not just a kid?
Han entered the cockpit just as Rey and Chewie were finishing their last-minute diagnostic check of the ship's systems. Rey was perched on the edge of his chair, her short legs swinging about a foot above the ground as the Wookie attempted to explain a computer read-out to her. Rey had always been good with languages, and she had been able to pick up a few of the simpler phrases, things like Don't touch that and Hand me the hydrospanner. The details of the read-out were rather more technical however, and the Wookie had resorted to a mixture of grunts and sign language.
"It's a thermal scan," Han said over her shoulder, pointing at the image. "The peaks are the engines—the curves are meant to be smooth, not jagged. Jagged curves can indicate a heat sink or a leaky valve."
Chewie huffed gratefully, repeating the words in his own language while Rey listened with rapt attention.
"You catch on quick, kid," Han said, shooing her from his chair. "We're cleared for take-off, so strap in. There's been a slight change in plans—rather than trekking all the way out to Yavin, we're going to drop these supplies with another contact on Takodana and then double back to Naboo."
Rey paused while clipping herself into the seat behind Han's, deflating slightly. She had been hoping to visit Luke Skywalker's Jedi temple, and not only because she thought Ben Solo might be there. Skywalker was as famous a hero as had ever walked through the tales of old, and a part of her thrummed at the thought of meeting him.
One day, she promised herself. If I stay with Han Solo long enough, surely he'll have to visit his son and old friend.
As the Falcon's sublight engines engaged, Rey let herself sink into her chair and watch the pale clouds—now a mix of dusky peach and cool violet—part before them. When they reached the outer atmosphere, and Bespin was naught but a yellow curve below them, Chewie demonstrated to Rey how to make the jump to hyperspace. She followed his motions thoughtfully and methodically, cataloguing them for later.
The blur of hyperspace soon filled the cockpit windows, lulling Rey into a peaceful trance. It had been a long day on Bespin, and before she knew it, she was nodding off to sleep.
Her mind awakened in a sea of green. She was sitting cross-legged, several inches above the ground, with collection of smooth stones orbiting about her. Beyond that, the whole world was stained in rich shades of emerald. Trees? She had heard the word before and glimpsed faded pictures, but she was uncertain whether these great obelisks could be compared to those two-dimensional sketches. They towered.Their leaves practically dripped water, and Rey felt herself growing thirsty at the very thought. Each seemed to pulse with life in a way that nothing on Jakku ever had.
Where was she?
The moment the thought crossed her mind, she thought she felt something soft, brushing against her. Brushing against her, but not physically. It was as if someone had formed a finger of thought and trailed it gently across her consciousness. It wasn't precisely a voice, or a feeling, but rather a presence.
The moment she recognized it, one of the stones before her dropped and she was cast back into the Falcon.
Rey's eyes flashed open on her three letters. She was tucked into her alcove with a blanket draped over her, as if someone, probably Han, had carried her there while she slept. Something about that thought made a bubble of warmth expand inside her chest.
Still disoriented, Rey scrambled to her feet and rubbed her eyes groggily. What was that place? she wondered. Already the details of the dream were slipping through her consciousness. She tried to grasp at them but it was like holding water in a sieve. What had caused her to wake up? What had that brush of thought been? Was it all simply a figment of her overactive imagination? Somehow this dream felt weightier than a normal one, but even Rey wasn't sure what she meant by that.
Dissatisfied but certain that racking her mind would bring no further answers, she climbed to the main deck to search for Chewie. Perhaps he would be willing to teach her some more Wookie before they arrived at Takodana.
The Falcon dropped out of hyperspace smoothly—a testament to the repairs performed at Cloud City. Rey was strapped into the chair directly behind Han, her eyes peeled to take in the first glimpse of the new planet.
She was not disappointed as the blue and green orb swelled into view. Even from space, Takodana was beautiful.
"What kinds of rocks make it green?" Rey asked, swinging her legs excitedly and craning her neck forward.
Han snorted loudly and Chewie let out a matching bark of laughter. "Rocks, kid? What makes you think those are rocks?"
Rey scowled, blushing darkly. She was uncertain what was so funny. "Planets are made of rocks," she drawled, as if it were the most obvious of facts.
"Yeah," said Han. "But sometimes things grow on rocks. Those, my desert-dwelling friend, are trees."
Rey blanched. "What? But—they're everywhere. The whole planet…"
"Pretty typical on planets that aren't fiery, hellish pits of sand," Han responded, drawing back on the throttle as they began a graceful descent into the atmosphere.
Rey strained her eyes, still not believing Han, but they were too high up to make out much detail in the carpet of green below. "What about the blue?"
"Water," said Han, grinning at her over his shoulder.
Rey laughed gleefully. "Very funny Mr. Solo, sir."
Han raised a single thick eyebrow and with a flick of his wrist the Falcon suddenly dropped lower, sending Rey's stomach towards the vicinity of her throat. She recovered quickly, but her pulse leapt as she saw what lay ahead.
The ship was skimming perhaps twenty meters above the largest body of water she had ever seen. Ivory-capped waves curled up towards them, and the cushion of air surrounding the Falcon sent up plumes of spray that whipped past in a white mist. Without noticing that she had done so, Rey unbuckled her restraints and crawled between Han and Chewie, practically climbing over the controls in her attempt to get closer to the windows. In the distance, beyond the body of water beneath them, she could make out a thin fringe of green on the horizon.
"Woah."
Han chuckled again, brushing her arm gently aside to reach a control panel. "Believe me now, kid?"
Rey nodded slowly, still absorbed by the sight before her. "I didn't know there was this much water in the whole galaxy."
"This is nothing," Han said. "Some planets have more water than Jakku has sand."
Rey didn't believe this claim, but she had already been proven wrong once today, so she didn't argue with Han.
They set the Falcon down in a grassy field just within sight of a tall stone castle. Rey's feet pattered over the ground impatiently as she waited for Han to lower the landing bridge. When the doors finally parted and light streamed into the ship's interior, Rey wasted no time in racing down to the soft earth of Takodana.
The first thing that hit her was the smell. Takodana smelled alive. The rich, earthy odor of growing things assaulted her senses instantly, followed by the warm wash of humidity. Rey didn't even make it to the tree line before she sank to her knees, running her fingers through the blades of grass around her. They were strong but pliant and they made her fingers tingle oddly with a pulsating force that was both a part of her and separate. The feeling was indescribable, as if she were a part of a vast web of life—just a single bright flicker amongst the many. The trees especially seemed to look down at her, their swaying branches and flickering shadows compelling her to step closer. She had thought at first that Takodana was the location of her strange dream, but she realized now that these trees were far too small.
"Come on, kid," Han called, "You can play in the grass later. We have work to do."
Rey stood reluctantly, throwing a last longing glance at the forest behind her, and scampered after Han as they walked in the direction of the castle.
"Where's Chewie?" she asked.
"He's with the ship," Han explained. "This is a smuggler port and it's not safe to leave the Falcon unattended for long."
"Mmm," Rey hummed, then quickly changed the topic. "What's this?" she questioned, holding up a tall stalk of grass topped with a soft beige tassel.
Han raised an eyebrow. "It's…grass."
Rey rolled her eyes. "I know that. But what kind is it? It's different from some of the other kinds, isn't it? Just like not all of the trees are the same. And like not all aliens are the same."
Han's expression morphed from amusement to outright confusion. "Who cares, kid?" he asked. "It's just grass."
"It's not just grass," Rey insisted, hurrying to match his longer strides. "It's alive. Can't you feel it?" She pressed the stem into his palm.
Han held the grass up skeptically. "Well it's dead now. You've picked it."
Rey opened her mouth to respond and then snapped it shut, looking rather put-out.
The two arrived at the castle courtyard just in time to prevent any further questioning from Rey. A few aliens and one or two humans were clustered outside in groups, but Han cut past them and made directly for a large wooden door that opened into a dimly lit tavern. They had barely stepped over the threshold when a strong female voice hailed them.
"Han Solo, what brings you to this part of the galaxy?"
Han's head swiveled, searching for the owner of the voice, but Rey was already standing eye to eye with her. The short alien spared Rey a quick grin and glanced back at Han, giving Rey a chance to take in her appearance—thick lenses attached to a head band covered beady eyes set in a round, leathery face, while four-fingered hands were held clasped in front of a compact body sporting simple brown trousers and a short burgundy sweater. The woman looked old—far older than Han—but couldn't have stood for than a few inches taller than Rey herself.
Han finally glanced down, making eye contact with his greeter. "Maz," he said, bending and extending a hand, which the alien—Maz—took in her seemingly delicate grip. "A pleasure, as always. Can't I just be here to visit an old friend?"
Maz laughed drily. "The day you visit Takodana just to see me is the day I finally drive these smugglers out of my castle. Let's get a private room—I've a feeling this might take a while."
Han and Rey followed obediently as Maz wound between tables and down a flight of stairs to a well-furnished chamber containing a table and three empty chairs. It seemed, Rey thought strangely, as if Maz had been expecting their arrival.
Their host settled into one of the chairs and clicked her fingers briskly, awakening a service droid that promptly rolled out of the room.
"Now tell me, Han," Maz began once the other two had taken their seats. Her fingers were steepled thoughtfully beneath her chin. "Where is my boyfriend?"
"Chewie's with the Falcon," Han responded, leaning back in his seat with an amused smirk on his face.
Maz clucked in irritation. "So, you found it, did you? I don't suppose that has anything to do with your guest, here? Were you planning on introducing us?"
Han's smirk grew as if enjoying Maz's gentle sarcasm. "Maz, this is Rey. Rey, this is Maz Kanata, the pirate queen of Takodana. Anything under the sun that you need, Maz can get it for you."
"For the right price," Maz responded, leaning forward over the table and turning a dial on her glasses that altered their magnification, causing her eyes to swell dramatically. She scrutinized Rey carefully before readjusting her lenses and retreating to her chair. "So, what really brings you here if it's not to reunite me with my favorite Wookie?"
"Business," Han says. "I have a shipment for Yavin 4 and I'm wondering if one of your more lawful compatriots would be willing to deliver it for me."
"Ahh," Maz said, examining Han over her folded hands. "Still avoiding your son, are you Han?"
Han scoffed, looking supremely uncomfortable. "Don't be ridiculous, Maz," he retorted. "I need to get back to Leia. Besides, you know Luke likes his privacy."
Rey peered curiously up at Han. "I thought you said we were avoiding Senator Organa until she stopped being angry that you left her cruiser on Jakku?"
Maz let out a burst of laughter. "I like this one," she admitted, granting Rey with a warm smile. "She doesn't take your bantha fodder. Regardless, it doesn't matter. I happen to already know that you'll be going to Yavin 4, so you won't require the service of my 'compatriots.'"
Han spluttered. "Excuse me?"
Maz shrugged. "Someone is coming here, looking for you. Stick around for the day and you'll find out who."
Han glared openly at his friend. "You know I hate your Force-mumbo-jumbo."
Rey's eyes widened almost as dramatically as Maz's had minutes previously. "You can use the Force?" she breathed. "Are you a Jedi?"
Maz chuckled. "Oh, stars no, girl. But I am sensitive to the occasional movement in the Force. It's an intuition more than anything." The stare she fixed Rey with seemed to indicate that there was something she wasn't saying. Without looking away, she spoke to Han. "Solo, why don't you go get Chewbacca? I'll send out a security detail for your ship so he can join us for lunch."
Han glanced uncertainly between Maz and Rey, as if sensing that the older woman was trying to get rid of him.
"Oh relax!" Maz demanded. "The girl is safe with me."
Han grumbled something under his breath about being ordered around and stood stiffly. "Don't wander off, kid," he ordered Rey. "I'll be back in ten minutes."
Rey nodded obediently and waited until Han had left the room before returning her gaze to Maz. The old alien was rubbing her temple, suddenly looking very weary.
"My child, I sense that you have endured things that no girl your age should ever have had to. I have not seen anything like you in a very long time. But not nearly as long as one would expect."
"Something like me?" Rey asked, confused.
Maz ignored the question. "I can sense him in you, you know."
Rey's mind raced. Sense who? Plutt? Han? Chewie?
"You know not of whom I speak," Maz explained gently. "But you soon will. Until then, you must learn to accept what is, and what never can be."
Rey frowned.
"Dear child, I see your eyes—you already know the truth. Whomever you were waiting for on Jakku, they're never coming back. And you should not go searching for them."
Rey's face crumpled and she drew away from the alien. "You're wrong," she whispered brokenly, feeling tears gather in her lashes.
Maz shook her head sadly. "The belonging you seek is not behind you—it is ahead. There is another—one who has already begun to turn from the light. You cannot save your parents, but you can save him."
Rey sniffled. "Who?"
Maz smiled softly. "That is for you to find for yourself, my dear. I may be no Jedi, but I know the Force. It moves through and surrounds every living thing. Close your eyes, feel it. The light. It's always been there. It will guide you."
Rey froze, her mind flickering to her arrival on Takodana. The presence that had surrounded her seemed to pulse within her now.
"I had a dream," she began, struggling to find the proper words. "I was in a place with tall trees. But not here. I felt—someone. With me. And I felt it again here, but different this time. More distant."
Maz's eyes looked troubled. "Then it has begun," she whispered. "You must trust your feelings, child. When they call to you, answer. It is the Force speaking through you." She opened her mouth again, as if poised to say something else, when there was a clatter near the door and pale alien with two stalk-like antennae peered into the room.
"Sorry to interrupt, Maz," he panted, looking rather disheveled. "Bar fight."
Maz tssked angrily and rose from her seat. "Remain here," she told Rey. "I'll be back shortly."
The two swept out of the room.
Rey huddled in her chair, brushing away the last of her tears. She wasn't willing to believe that her parents wouldn't return to her. But if Maz was right, perhaps they couldn't. Perhaps they needed her help.
She stood from her chair, feeling incredibly restless. She would have to convince Han to help her search. She felt a bolt of shame as the realized how distracted she had become by the travel and adventure aboard the Falcon. Rather than enjoying Cloud City, she should have been pressing Han to make contact with Senator Organa regarding her parents.
She circled the room once, hands lightly brushing over the objects on the shelves, before her feet took her to the door. The seconds ticked past silently as she glanced first one direction and then the other. Something pulled her towards the gloom of the corridor opposite the stairs, something that brushed on the edges of her mind. She was filled with the unreasonable certainty that she needed to go there.
Maz had told her to stay in the room. But Maz had also told her to listen to her feelings. Don't be ridiculous, she told herself. The Force doesn't talk to desert sandrats like you.
But the pull wouldn't stop, and the longer Rey tried to resist it, the more difficult it became. She swore she could hear a voice, crying, from the end of the hallway. Begging someone to come back come back come back.
Perhaps if she just took a few steps in that direction…her feet stumbled forward, taking her into the hall. Glancing back over her shoulder to check that no one was coming down the stairs, Rey crept quietly into the shadows.
The walls to either side were rough and made of stone, with cobwebs growing in the junction between wall and ceiling, and stretching over the dim light fixtures. Rey passed two doors on the right without glancing inside. The voice grew louder until finally it fell completely silent as she stopped outside a third door, to the left. Placing a hand on the frame, she knew she was in the right place.
The room was dominated by shelves stacked with antiques and bits of junk—spare parts, an old vase, and a few chairs. She wandered deeper into the expansive room, passing through dust moats cast by light streaming through windows located near the ceiling. She stopped in front of a low table topped by a small wooden chest. Its iron clasp beckoned to her. The voice was back now, and it was coming from the chest. But this time, even more disturbingly, it was her voice.
Rey extended a single hand over the box but hesitated without touching it. The whole world was thrumming now. Whatever resided in the container before her was practically pressing into her down-turned palm, like the air surrounding it had acquired a second heartbeat. She was terrified to touch it, but she realized that the thought of turning around and leaving the room without exploring further was even more unbearable.
Reluctantly, impatiently, she lowered her hand to the wood of the chest. The voice stopped. Swallowing, Rey pushed back the latch and lifted the lid of the box. Before her, nestled on a bed of folded brown cloth, was cylindrical silver object. It looked slightly like a blaster—sleek and weaponized—but with no obvious trigger. There was a grip, however, that looked as if it were suited for a hand much larger than hers. Rey's fingers begged to touch the object.
Slowly, inexorably, her hand drifted towards it. Just do it, she told herself. Hurry, before Maz comes back.
Rey's thumb brushed over the object, and the world went black.
A/N: Hello, all! Sorry for the cliffhanger ending-I was originally going to end the chapter a bit later, but it ended up getting so long that I knew I needed to cut it off. As before, please let me know if you notice any typos/inconsistencies/etc. Your reviews/favorites/follows have been incredibly kind and encouraging so far, so thank you for that! People are actually reading my story...like...wow. How cool is that?
A little note on how this story is going to roll-I know the description says "Romance/Adventure" (because that is where this story is going) but it might be a hot sec before the romance happens. I was originally playing around with the idea of skipping a few years ahead, but I really want to take some time developing younger-Rey and younger-Ben.
Last thing-as you've probably noticed by now, I'm trying to include some song lyrics with each chapter. If you're into that kind of thing, go ahead and give the song a listen before or after you read the chapter. No pressure, though! If you have any other songs that you think fit the tone of the story, feel free to suggest them! After watching TROS I sadly listened to a bunch of reylo playlists to cope with my angst and sadness. It's a vibe.
Also, last thing (I promise)-many of Maz's quotes are probably pretty recognizable from TFA-I wasn't sure how to denote that, but just as a disclaimer (for anyone that didn't recognize them), a big chunk of that section is *not* my writing.
Hope you enjoyed!
-A