Disclaimer: Don't own SW. Belongs to Disney and Lucasfilm.
As the shadows of the TIE fighters flew overhead, O-Three's heart pounded so hard she thought it would burst through her armor. That terror helped her avoid the TIEs' shots and run for her life. That terror also kept her eyes peeled for a nearby dune.
"Over here!" she shouted, sprinting until she was under the dune's shade.
Explosions pursued Poe and One-Eight until they made it. The former dived in last and said, "This won't help! They can easily find us here!"
"It was the best I can do!" O-Three snapped.
"They're coming around!" One-Eight cut the two off.
As the old soldier said, the TIEs were coming back, and O-Three hid with her companions under the safe dune. There were no lasers, but the engines were clear and they were getting closer. "If you have a plan, I'd like to hear it!" O-Three said to Poe.
There was nothing from him. That zeal she had seen was gone for several seconds. Distraught, O-Three looked over the dune's edge. The three fighters swerved to the side, angling their turrets to the trio once again. O-Three readied her rifle, not willing to go down without a fight.
That would be if Poe had not grabbed her arm. "What are you doing?!" O-Three shouted.
"Just wait," Poe said and closed his eyes. "Keep an eye out," he instructed.
O-Three glanced over to One-Eight, who said "Do as he says," and went over to the other edge of the dune.
O-Three whirled her head back around. On her helmet's display, three circles focused on the TIEs, which were mere dots. Even as dots, though, those fighters had sensors to spot them. "Nothing's happening," O-Three said.
"Wait," she heard Poe, his expression calm and serene. "They'll pass… soon enough."
O-Three tried not to tsk in dismay. The TIEs were getting closer, their terrible cries growing louder by the minute. She fought the urge to look back at the pilot and kept her sensors on the TIEs, not wanting to take her eyes away or give away their position.
Then, just as Poe said, the TIEs flew overhead, as if they had not noticed their targets.
O-Three did not believe her eyes, so turned back to her helmet's display. The HUD calculated the distance of the TIEs that were now small dots in the sky. Fifty meters away, she counted…
Then, seventy meters away…
Then, ninety…
At one-hundred and ten, a distance too far for her sensors to catch, O-Three could not believe it. The silence was unreal from the deafening lasers or TIE engines. It was made real by Poe's voice. "We need to move. They'll be coming back for us soon enough," he said, passing by the confused Stormtrooper.
"Wait, what-"
One-Eight cut O-Three off. "Save it for later. Right now, we need to find shelter."
Begrudgingly, O-Three hefted her rifle while Poe pulled out a device from his flight suit, something like looked like a hand-sized datapad. "What are you doing?" O-Three asked Poe.
"Before landing, I made a layout of the area. There should be a canyon west of here," Poe answered, flashing the beeping datapad over his shoulder.
"Does it say where?" One-Eight said.
"A couple of miles. Once we find the canyon, we can hide there until my people come along."
"Your people?" O-Three interrupted.
At that, Poe stated aloud, "I sent a beacon before we were attacked. Hopefully, my friends will have noticed it and come to pick us up soon."
O-Three lacked confidence in a single word from Poe's mouth, especially "hopefully," and none of them did little to stop her hands from twitching slightly over her blaster's trigger. Still, she brought up the rear while Poe took the lead.
One-Eight, in the middle, slowed his pacing until he was in front of O-Three. "You're fidgeting," he commented over his shoulder.
"I'm surprised you aren't," O-Three murmured back. "I don't like this, One-Eight. Just a few TIEs are keeping us on the run. They aren't just going to give up and leave… not to mention how our 'friend' here was able to keep those TIEs off our backs…"
Poe spoke on his own behalf. "There's nothing else we can do now. If you want any chance of escaping this rock, you have to stick by me."
O-Three said nothing more, leaving One-Eight to speak with Poe. "Do you think you could contact your droid?" he inquired the pilot.
"No," Poe replied, "but if I know BB-8, he'll probably find a way out. He usually does."
O-Three frowned under her helmet. She doubted a droid would be helpful with anything, let alone a droid that was smelted by now. However, it was not like much else was available. With only that hope in mind, O-Three and everyone else made their way westward across the Dune Sea, as if any of them had a choice in the matter.
Aboard the Finalizer, a voice rang out. "Captain, we're receiving a signal-same frequency as the New Republic agent!"
Satisfaction and relief filled Phasma as she turned to the officer addressing her. "Pinpoint the signal. Tell our forces to corner the deserters. They must not be aloud to escape!"
"Right away, captain," the officer said before he went away.
A thought gave Phasma some pause to her satisfaction. "One moment," she called, stopping the officer in place. "Anything from our probe droids?"
"I'm afraid not, ma'am."
Phasma turned back to the window. "Very well, dismissed," she said, her joy mired in frustration.
As the officer left, Phasma bore her eyes into the glass in front. There was still nothing, and she only had three hours left under General Hux's schedule. Phasma had to find him quickly, or else everything she worked for would be lost.
"Marm, incoming transmission from Starkiller Base," another officer told her.
Phasma frowned at the interruption. "I'll take it privately," she said and went back to the comm chamber.
The minute she entered, Phasma was greeted by the holoimage of not General Hux, but a familiar dark helmet emerging from the communications console. "Knight Ren. To what do I owe the pleasure?" She greeted.
Phasma felt Xa-re Ren's eyes through the slit visor. "I am calling about my apprentice. I trust everything is going well."
"Yes. She is currently on the planet with my men. She has been given command of a small platoon and-"
"That doesn't concern me. What are your thoughts about her?"
Phasma blinked behind her helmet. She did expect something like that. "Well," she began, "she seems to follow orders well enough. However, she is very new to this. It should take time before she acclimates herself to her new position."
"Do you believe she will succeed in capturing these deserters?"
Now, Phasma understood. "I'm afraid I can't say. The girl has done little to prove herself capable of combat. I trust you have given her enough instruction of course, but I doubt why she's here on such an important mission."
"And pray tell what exactly is this mission?" Phasma cursed herself for letting such information slip out and kept silent to Xa-re Ren's stare. "I find your silence disturbing… Did you forget already your place, Captain Phasma?"
Keeping a steady tone, Phasma glared back. "No, I haven't, Knight Ren. I'm afraid General Hux knows more than I. He only revealed partial information to me," she explained.
As Phasma hoped, Xa-re Ren accepted the half-truth. "Very well," his voice rumbled after a moment. "Be sure to inform me of my pupil's progress. Once she succeeds in capturing your deserters, she is to return at once."
"And if she fails?" Phasma dared to ask.
"Then, I will deal with her."
Xa-re disappeared, leaving Phasma alone once more with the feeling of trepidation and concern.
The twin suns began to set, yet the heat was just as strong, and Rey sweltered in it. Even in the shade of the canyon, she could barely take the heat. Years on snow-capped mountains and in deep space only worsened the experience. Now, she understood Lieutenant Mitaka's discomfort earlier.
Speaking of the lieutenant, he spoke up from behind the sitting Rey. "Marm, there has been news about the deserters."
"Have they been found?"
The lieutenant hesitated to answer Rey's question. "... No. Our fighters have lost track of the deserters."
Her eyes closed, Rey suppressed a swell of irritation. Her fingers softly gripped the hilt resting in her lap, and she remembered her mentor telling her to be patient and to think. "Did our fighters lose them completely?" Rey inquired from the lieutenant.
"Well," he hesitated again, "not exactly… they were able to ascertain the direction the deserters were last heading."
"Are they coming here?"
"Possibly." It was the most simple and plain thing to come out of the lieutenant's mouth.
Rey exhaled through her mouth. "We wait, then."
And waited they did. While the lieutenant stepped to the side, Rey sat cross-legged. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead and began to soak her dark clothes. She did not ask for a drop of water, and she would not accept it from the troopers. Xa-re Ren's lesson of the camp fire on Starkiller Base rang in her mind. Fortunately, his gift, the only thing Rey possessed, was cool enough to keep her sane and thinking on this baking rock.
Time passed, and Rey's patience paid off as the suns continued their descent. If she opened her eyes, she would have seen the sky turn orange. It was at that time a Stormtrooper came up from behind. "Ma'am, we've picked up something coming our way."
"Life signs?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," replied the trooper. "Three of them."
Rey held in her relief. Whatever Captain Phasma had planned, it seemed to be working. "Tell the others to hold their positions," she ordered calmly. "They're not to fire until I give the order. The lieutenant will be joining me."
The trooper silently acknowledged the command and left. Again, Rey was sitting alone in the center of the canyon path. Her grip tightened around the hilt in anticipation. She snapped out of it, thanks to the lieutenant's reappearance.
He watched through his macrobinoculars. "Two in Stormtrooper armor. Another in an orange jumpsuit," he said. Rey was not sure if he sounded relieved or scared. "It's them alright, marm."
Rey said nothing. A few minutes passed, and the lieutenant spoke again. "They're getting closer now. We're too conspicuous out here, marm."
The lieutenant was right about one thing. Their targets were getting closer. Rey felt the three through the Force.
A huff came from the lieutenant. "Marm, we must hide now. Otherwise, they will see us, and the plan will be ruined."
Rey held down a laugh. She wanted to be seen. That was why she was waiting in the canyon. Her master was not here to judge, but whatever Xa-re would have thought of her, Rey would be sure not to ruin the plan.
"Marm…"
The lieutenant's words trailed away as Rey opened her eyes at last.
Her targets were now clear to see. They popped slightly around the corner, wandering aimlessly. They were unaware of what was far ahead, and their conversation was loud enough for Rey to hear.
"So how much farther?" called the woman of the deserters. "When are we going to stop?"
"Not until we find a spot to get some rest… and a signal," said the man in orange leading the trio. "Hey, if you don't like it, at least remember that we're not being chased by TIEs."
The woman sighed, breathing a puff of hot air. "So what is this place anyway? I never saw any canyon on this rock."
It was the other deserter, an old man, who spoke. "I heard this place used to be called something… Beggar's Chasm, I think."
"Sounds like a fitting name," laughed the man in orange.
"I think it's unimaginative," snarked the woman.
Rey shared the same thought, and she almost laughed. Almost. It would not be long for now. Just a little bit closer.
Suddenly, the man leading the deserters stopped in his tracks. "Wait…" he said.
Now, Rey stood tall and proud to make herself easier to spot. If the lieutenant said anything, she did not care. She focused on the trio in front now, their eyes finally on her. The center of attention, Rey held her hilt to the side and thumbed the button on it.
The red blade of a lightsaber erupted from the hilt in a loud snap-hiss. The white core hummed, announcing itself everyone in the area. Its wielder first inhaled to do the same.
"In the name of the First Order, surrender!"
Rey's pride swelled with the words leaving her lips. For the first time, she finally could announce to the galaxy who she was. She tightened the grip on her lightsaber, and her resolve, to feel the cool metal grooves clash with the blazing heat of plasma.
"Surrender!" Rey said once more. "There is no way you can escape!"
The trio in front stood there. The surprise and fear from the two deserters were clear as the setting suns. The pilot was unreadable. Rey put her concentration on that man, not sure how to read him or the strange sensation coming off his person.
That same man stepped forward, raised his arms, and shouted, "I surrender!"
Rey blinked her eyes. The deserters looked just as confused, while the man continued. "I am Captain Poe Dameron of the New Republic. And may I be so bold to ask whom I'm addressing?"
The lieutenant, not Rey, answered the man. "I am Lieutenant Mitaka of the First Order," he announced. "You have two of our soldiers with you. You are to return them and submit yourself for detainment."
"Like kriff we're going back!" shouted the woman.
"Easy, O-Three," cautioned the old man, equally tensed.
Unlike his compatriots, the pilot in front, this Poe, laughed the whole situation off. "So the First Order is after us. And here I thought it was just bandits. I mean who else uses TIEs of all fighters these days!"
It was a jab. A pathetic one, meant to stall time. "I'm guessing it's not just you guys here," he spoke and looked past Rey and the lieutenant. "You probably have more soldiers waiting for your orders, right?"
Again, the lieutenant talked for Rey. "If you know that, then you know surrender is your only option."
"And what will happen then?"
"You will be treated fairly-"
"Yeah right!" barked O-Three.
The old man shot a glare. "O-Three…"
"-and if you give us the deserters, you may be allowed to return to your New Republic unharmed," the lieutenant continued.
For a long moment, Poe was silent. Rey fixed her gaze on him, unable to shake off the feeling. What he replied stumped Rey. "You see," Poe began, "I can't really do that."
A frown spread over the lieutenant's face. "And why not?"
"I don't think I need to say much. First, you said may, not will. Second, isn't one New Republic officer more valuable than two deserters?"
"Listen here-"
Rey cut the conversation with her lightsaber's blaze. "Enough!" she exclaimed, pointing her weapon at the trio. "All of you will be coming with us. You will comply or we will take you here by force."
No one said a word. Rey kept her eyes on each of her foes in front, more on the unmasked Poe than the helmeted ex-Stormtroopers. The only sound was just the wind blowing away a layer of sand.
Then, O-Three raised her rifle.
"No!" shouted Poe, but it came too late.
The shot rang out, flying through the sand. The lieutenant ducked, and the red bolt whizzed by Rey, who rushed the trio. She ignored the cry of Stormtrooper who had been hit, her blade brought back for an attack.
"Watch out!" Poe shouted.
Her blade struck the ground instead of the pilot. That did not stop Rey's assault. She swung again and again at the retreating enemies in wide arcs.
Poe, her first target, dodged and back from the swipes almost seamlessly. O-Three was not as fast, and Rey sliced through the ex-trooper's blaster before it could fire again. She fell on her behind, and Rey swung for another strike.
A shot flew past her face, stopping her in place, and Rey eyed the old man, his blaster on her. The old man kept the furthest distance and fired three more bolts, all of which Rey backed away to avoid. While retreating, both hands gripped the hilt in time to deflect another of the old man's shots, thus one forcing Rey away. She stumbled back to regain her footing, an act that Master Xa-re would criticise her for.
Rey's boots planted themselves into the sand. She glared past her raised red blade at her enemies eying her. They did not advance or retreat. Soon, they would be forced to do one, and neither was an option for Rey's success.
That was when a Stormtrooper flanked either side of the apprentice. At first unsure, Rey glanced behind. All of the Stormtroopers under her appeared, their armor shiny and chrome in the dim sunlight as they left the shadows. Like a wave, they fanned out and formed into a row in front of a rather frustrated Rey.
"I thought I gave you orders!" she hissed at the crew.
"We have Captain Phasma's orders, ma'am," one Stormtrooper replied calmly. "The targets must be detained immediately."
"Perhaps, this is for the best," the lieutenant agreed from whatever rock he hid behind. "We can't take anymore chances."
Frowning in disappointment, Rey lowered her saber. The exhilaration she felt simmered in the dying heat, and a coldness not dissimilar from Starkiller Base's climate grabbed onto her. And like she did on Starkiller Base, she stood there and let others take the work from her.
"Take aim!"
Rifles whirled in succession as they were set to stun. Rey kept her eyes on the three targets in front. Like before, the pilot looked determined as ever, compared to his comrades. In the end, it wouldn't matter. The enemy would detained with the deserters, and she would return to the Knights of Ren and undoubtedly return her gift to-
Suddenly, Rey felt something from her saber. It was a slight jitter at first. Then, it slowly slid in her grasp, as if something was pulling it.
The next thing she knew, it flew out of her hand. Rey followed the saber as it cut apart two Stormtroopers from behind. She and everyone were shocked to see the saber flung from her and through the air…
… right into Poe's waiting hand.
"Shoot him!" shouted one Stormtrooper.
Before Rey fully registered what happened, the lightsaber swung again, this time to Poe's wrist movements. Blue bolts ricocheted off the red blade towards Rey's direction. She dodged but a few of her troops were struck down by their own shots.
"Catch!" Poe called out, tossing a pistol to O-Three while blocking more blaster fire. The deserter accepted it, and two more Stormtroopers fell with smoking holes in their armor.
From where she stood, Rey's eyes widened at the man. The sensation she felt before struck her at full force. She now knew who this Poe was.
"Well?" he called to Rey while holding her saber, a fact that snapped Rey out of her stupor. "Why don't we just sit down and talk? We don't have to-"
Another round of blaster bolts cut Poe off. "I guess we do!" he exclaimed. The red blade swung at the incoming barrage, and Rey was on the receiving end.
With more Stormtroopers dropping like insects, she moved faster than she thought her body would allow. Unlike the training simulations, this was a real combat against a serious threat. He could not be allowed to contact his comrades and jeopardize the First Order. He had to be stopped.
'But how?' Rey could only ask herself.
The answer came quickly. She felt the swarm of emotions all around her, and she honed on Poe. He was calm and confident as ever. The latter was in overabundance, and it was shared by the two deserters with him.
Xa-re Ren whispered to her once more. "That is their weakness. Harness it. Let it build. And when they believe they have won, turn it against them."
Taking in the lesson, Rey took a few steps closer to the lieutenant and waited for the opportune moment to come.
"A Jedi! You're a kriffing Jedi!" O-Three shouted over the blaster fire.
While he had his suspicions, One-Eight silently shared the sentiment. He would have scolded his and O-Three's not-so savior for not being upfront with them. For now, he kept his eyes focused on their chasers and shot at them, only sparing one glance.
Front and center, 'Jedi' Poe Dameron swung the red lightsaber he stole. He batted away enemy fire with speed and precision out out of an old holovid, all while managing to call over his shoulder, "Nice of you to notice!"
"You could've-" O-Three stopped to dodge a stun bolt. "You could've told us!"
"That would've ruined the surprise!"
"Focus! Talk after they're down!" One-Eight barked, and he unloaded his blaster at one Stormtrooper, then another.
A total of eight targets were down. There were at least a dozen more to go, not including that Lieutenant Mitaka or the girl in black. Much to One-Eight's worry, he saw neither of them among the fallen bodies.
There was a shout, unheard over the blasters, and those Stormtroopers still standing stepped back. One by one, they retreated back into the canyon, a few getting shot in the back while trying to escape. Among them, the black coat of Lieutenant Mitaka run from the rocky wall he hid behind.
"Wait, where are you going?!" he chased after his Stormtroopers and called into his hand. "This is Lieutenant Mitaka! We're losing forces! I repeat, we're-AH!"
With a stray bolt to the back, the lieutenant fell. O-Three was about to move forward, her armored body shining with anticipation, and she would have if Poe hadn't intercepted a shot meant for her. "Easy! No need to rush!" he grinned and stepped in front.
On Poe's right, One-Eight carefully followed behind to make sure he and O-Three were not shot down. His old training suppressed any regret, and he scoured over the fallen men and women he served alongside days ago. When he eyed the fallen Mitaka, One-Eight noticed something: the lieutenant had no commlink.
That nagged at One-Eight. Did that lieutenant not use it a second ago? And if so, where had the commlink gone?
"It's her!" O-Three cried suddenly, drawing One-Eight and Poe's eyes forward.
It was the girl in black. She stood there several yards away, not looking at the Stormtroopers who ran past her. Her eyes were on the trio, almost mocking them, before she turned around to run with her troops. One-Eight did not take the bait, but O-Three did, to Poe's surprise.
"Hey, wait!"
"O-Three, fall in line!" One-Eight called, gaining the attention of his fellow deserter when Poe could not.
O-Three stopped and growled back, "I'm not letting anyone take me back! It's them or us!"
Left with little other choice, Poe and One-Eight rushed after O-Three. She in turn chased the girl in black down the canyon. O-Three fired like a madwoman, trying and failing to get a shot on her target. The girl in black moved side-to-side to avoid the shots, no doubt using the Force to maneuver around them.
"O-Three, wait!" One-Eight shouted and was ignored again.
The girl in black seemed to have heard it over the blaster fire. She sidestepped another of O-Three's shots, which instead struck another of the fleeing Stormtroopers. The girl, on the other hand, came to a stop, facing her chasers with a familiar white cylinder in hand.
"Bring it down!" she shouted into Mitaka's commlink.
O-Three's boots skidded to a stop. Poe and One-Eight did the same, the latter curiously eying the girl. After that shout, there should have been some more troops or traps none of them were aware of. Instead, there was nothing for a long moment.
And the girl was smiling. Why…?
One-Eight, daring to look up, caught the tiniest of black dots. Black dots which One-Eight had already seen twice today.
"TIEs! We have to move-!"
His cry came too late. Turrets thundered from above as green bolts slammed on the canyon overhead. Smoke and dust clouded the sky above, and rocks were blasted into large chunks. One-Eight's helmet sensors caught the size and speed of the rocks. They were numerous boulders, falling slowly then rapidly in seconds… and they were about to fall on the trio.
Or would have if they had not stopped mid-air.
Holding his right hand at the rocks, Poe grimaced. "Hrgh!" he grunted while struggling to hold the debris up with the Force.
One-Eight blinked himself out of his shock. As surprised as he was by another of Dameron's Jedi tricks, he whirled around. O-Three was too dumbfounded and Poe was too busy for either to even pay attention to the girl in black. Standing in the back and out of danger from the debris, she knelt down for a fallen blaster.
"No!" One-Eight shouted, aiming at the girl.
The girl ducked and rolled under the bolt. She laid flat on the ground, rifle in hand, and fired whatever shots remained. One-Eight dodged, and even One-Three managed to barely avoid Poe's pistol from being blasted out of her hand.
Poe was not lucky as the bolts burned into his legs. "Gah!" he cried, and his knees gave way.
One-Eight and O-Three expected the rubble to fall on their heads. It was stopped and dangled centimeters over the deserters' helmed heads. One-Eight did not turn away from the girl and tried to shoot at her, not focusing on the kneeling man beside him.
His hand barely held over his head, Poe looked to the two deserters. "I don't know how much longer I can hold this-!"
Another shot dug into his shoulder, and another cry left his lips. The rocks lowered even more, and the deserters had to crouch. Already, they were cramped and unable move as much as One-Eight would have liked. "Get up! We can make it!" he shouted to Poe, but he knew he could not stay for much longer.
"N-no!" Poe shouted. "Get out of here!"
"But-!" O-Three started and the girl's shots cut her off. She whirled the pistol to the impudent First Order pawn. "Why you-?!"
Poe held up his other hand, barely holding onto the red lightsaber. Before One-Eight and O-Three could fire, the two found themselves pushed away. Flung from under the rubble, they both skidded on the ground and stopped several arms' length away. One-Eight was the first to recover, and he brought his head up to Poe.
The Jedi was under the floating rubble and at the mercy of the girl in black. Bolt after bolt tore into Poe's body, and the rocks lowered over his expression of pain and anguish. His hand did not move. Poe did his best to make sure it could not.
However, he did not hold for long, and Poe closed his eyes when the debris finally collapsed on him.
"NO!" O-Three shouted, just as the dust fell over her and One-Eight.
The old soldier was forced to look away and wait for the dust to settle. He rose to his feet and approached the pile of canyon rubble. It was three meters high with boulders and tiny rocks placed atop one another. His sensors caught no sign of a heartbeat or rate of breathing, so One-Eight looked for any sign of Poe.
His stomach dropped seeing a hand stuck out, still grasping a darkened cylinder.
"No!" O-Three cried, slamming her fist on the sand again and again. "This can't happen! Not after all we went through!"
One-Eight stood there by the pile. He abandoned his post, watched several others die trying to do the same, and ran across desert to find some hope of escape. There was none of that. Only the overwhelming sense of dread seeing the body below.
And the stun bolts firing from above.
"Hrgh!" One-Eight convulsed, falling to the sand with the pain spread throughout his body.
O-Three fell, twitching from blue bolts similar to the ones that hit One-Eight. Lying in the sand, all either deserter could do was stare up at the two Stormtroopers standing atop the rubble. Their blasters shone in the thinning cloud as they came down.
The girl in black was with them. Her boots stopped halfway down the pile, and her glare was barely hidden in the dust. "This Apprentice Rey," she said into Mitaka's commlink, "inform Captain Phasma to bring a shuttle. We have completed the mission."
More Stormtroopers appeared over the pile to swarm over the two deserters. In the mess of white, the girl in black stepped down one rock after the other. After reaching the bottom, she knelt by the limp hand and retrieved her saber from Poe's dead grasp. In his fading sight, One-Eight could barely see the look of relief on her face.
The girl looked at the troopers standing over the deserters. "Take them away," she ordered and turned away.
Defeated and groggy, all One-Eight could do was allow himself and O-Three to be taken away by the First Order.
Eight-Seven was not sure where he was going. Separated from everyone else, he could not understand what is going on. The only thing he remembered was what that Poe man said. There was supposed to be a place eastward. If there was, then there would be a place to rest and hide.
So Eight-Seven limped east. Across the desert with ragged breaths and smacked lips.
For some reason, BB-8 came with him into the scorching and open desert. The blasted droid kept its place slow place to conserve its own energy, the own eye glancing either down or ahead. Whether BB-8 followed Eight-Seven or he followed it did not matter, and he tore off his shoulder plate.
The suns fell on Eight-Seven's back; certainly better than earlier, when he was running for his life. And though the sprain in Eight-Seven's leg still hurt, he had no worries of any TIES hunting him.
Thanks to Nines…
It was hard for Eight-Seven to keep his mind elsewhere. Nines and him trained together with their troop for years. Nines had stuck with him while they deserted the First Order.
And Nines helped Eight-Seven escape. Nines did it so he could survive.
Because of that, Eight-Seven swore he would. To honor his friend's sacrifice, if anything.
Just then, BB-8 screeched. The ball of scrap swirled around a shoulder piece and rushed past Eight-Seven. Curious, he blinked his dried eyes to see what made the droid so excited.
The answer was a small dome in the distance, blending in with the surrounding sand. Much to Eight-Seven's relief, the small dome was not a mirage. There were also large spike-like pillars sticking out. Definitely not natural. They were some kind of technology… and wherever there was technology, there had to be...
"People," Eight-Seven caught his breath as he went after the droid. "Hey wait!"
He no longer cared about the desert or his uncomfortable armor. The droid had as much energy as Eight-Seven, only without a limp to hold it back.
The closer he was to the dome, the more Eight-Seven knew it was real. He also realized the figures coming out of it were real too, and they were not wearing white armor. The figures stopped, and Eight-Seven swore they were looking at his direction. With what strength he had, Eight-Seven waved an arm and yelled at the top of his voice.
"Hey! Heeeey! Over here-!"
Suddenly, there was a flash of red. The next thing Eight-Seven knew, he was flat on his back.
In his shock, Eight-Seven turned his head to a smoking hole in his right shoulder.
Past the wound, BB-8 rolled in the other direction. A clear red bolt of a blaster struck the droid, careening it off its intended path and onto its side.
Eight-Seven tried to get up. However, a heavy and big foot fell on his wounded shoulder. He screamed as he registered the pain for the first time. The next thing he registered was a giant shadow overhead and a blaster rifle pointed at his face.
"Why you shoot him?!" shouted a woman's voice.
The mass holding Eight-Seven down squealed over its shoulder.
"Sand People speak no Basic!" the female clipped her accented tone. A red face popped into Eight-Seven's view with two head tails hanging down. "Vait, s'at a Stormtrooper? 'aven't seen one in years!"
The other squealed again, the sound as disgusting as the bulbous face it came out of. The pair of bead-like eyes gleamed threateningly at Eight-Seven until a third voice drew it away. "What's going on?"
"Squeaky found a Stormtrooper," answered the female over her shoulder to the man who asked.
A third head, the face shrouded under a hood, joined in. Eight-Seven, barely keeping himself awake. Blinking his cloudy eyes, a pair of brown orbs stared back at him, and a peculiar itch grew in the back of his head.
That itch disappeared as the hooded man spoke to his colleagues. "Take him with us… Get the droid too."
The giant mass squealed in surprise. "Squeaky's right," the female agreed. "We're not 'ere to bring stragglers."
"Apparently, you're not seeing it clearly," the hooded man retorted. Eight-Seven, in his daze, noticed a waving hand. "Believe me when I say this Stormtrooper may give us enough credits for everyone. Maybe it will last a lifetime."
Snorts were directed at the hooded man, who retorted, "Leave the captain to me. You just bring them."
With that, the hooded man left. The red woman sighed to her companion, "I 'ave a bad feeling aboot this…"
The last thing Eight-Seven saw was the woman's fist gleaming in the suns as it went clank against his face.
Sizzles and screams filled every corner. Old sandy buildings-homes, stations, and more-were lit red with flame and covered in black smoke. Humans and aliens alike were rounded up and split into two groups. The large rabble of adults screamed out to their crying children.
Over the noise of the innocents, a man shouted, "Quiet!"
The screams continued.
"QUIET!"
Eight-Seven was shaken out of his stupor. Orders were shouted to him and Nines, and they went over to the children with more of their fellow Stormtroopers. The rest surrounded the adults. Blasters pointed at the ground, Eight-Seven and his comrades surrounded the children, cutting them off from their parents.
No, not cutting off, said a part of Eight-Seven's mind. Shielding.
Eight-Seven felt there was something wrong about it. He knew there was something wrong. This had not been part of the mission. They were supposed to find someone else, not bring more 'recruits' for the First Order!
If he had any doubts of his orders, he obeyed anyway and dragged the nearest child away, as did the rest of the Stormtroopers with him. They all took every child away and hauled them into the First Order shuttle. Eight-Seven placed the last one inside and watched the shuttle carry the children away.
That was when Eight-Seven heard his commander. "Take aim!"
Eight-Seven whirled around. The other Stormtroopers aimed at the adults of the town, the helpless parents who were forced from their offsprings. Their fear and panic rose with the charge of blasters rifle.
He did not even hear the final order over the sound of blasters. He just ran. He and several others ran outside the walls of the town. All of them were unfamiliar, except for Nines. He didn't care who they were. They all thought they same and let out a signal.
So, he ran with them.
Far away from the burning town. And far from the First Order.
The whirl of a blaster about to fire shuddered Eight-Seven to consciousness. He gasped at the sight of a blaster pistol to his face. "What-?"
"Good, you're awaken," he heard the man holding the blaster pistol.
Eight-Seven blinked the haze from his eyes and took a good look at the man. It was the hooded man from before, only his hood was pulled down. Without it, Eight-Seven recognized him immediately. "You're-!"
The pistol drew closer. "I would stay silent if I were you," the man whispered in a low tone. The threat understood, Eight-Seven shut his mouth. "Now, I'm going to ask some questions, and you're going to answer them. Understood?"
Eight-Seven nodded, and the man stood up. "Now, do you recognize this place?" the man asked, his dark cloak blending with the cloud of smoke behind him.
After a quick look at the buildings, Eight-Seven nodded. How could he not? It had been the very place he ran from days ago. He had been lying the scorched streets he ran away from, listening to the man continue, "Do you know what they called this place?"
Eight-Seven shook his head so the man continued. "They called this Anchorhead… but your people didn't know that. You were just interested in looking for me. You didn't and instead decided to 'recruit.' Anyone else, you… Well, I don't have to say…"
The man's voice trailed off, and he waved his pistol to the smoking pile of bodies behind him. Eight-Seven felt sick seeing them. He was close to vomiting the remnants of his sterilized meal.
The man whispered to him, "I guess I'm right, aren't I?"
His hand to his mouth, Eight-Seven nodded. The man's bearded face twitched a little in sympathy. "Look," the man started, "I can guess pretty well that you regret it. I have a lot of things I regret too. I can take you to safety. Just listen to what I say and don't tell anyone anything. Understood?"
Eight-Seven could only nod. The man ran his free hand over his darkened locks. "This will take some effort to convince the others," he murmured to himself. Then, he ordered, "Get up. You first need to get rid of that armor. The others won't shoot you without it."
Obeying like a soldier of the First Order, Eight-Seven rose to his feet and stripped himself of his armor. He then followed the very man he had initially looked for, wearing only his dark bodysuit in the heat of the sun.