Chapter Three: The Afterthought | A Star Wars Fan Fiction

She looks up at the night sky as the darkness cools the hot planet. The stars shine brightly with bursts of energy, filling her up with desire. Her back against the foot of an old AT-AT that was destroyed from a previous battle. She continues to stare up at the stars, consciously dreaming of another life. An idea that she wishes would come true, but nothing ever happens. She always wakes up in the same belly of the AT-AT, feeling less hopeful as the days go by. She picks herself up but continues to stare up at the night sky. She takes a deep breathe, with a glimmer of hope that she could live a different life.

It’s early in the morning now, as she wakes up and looks up at the roof with a hatch open. The light spills into the entire belly of the AT-AT, showcasing all of her belongings in a small corner. Everything she owns and everything she knows is in that corner. The light catches her hands. Her hands are rough from scavenging parts from broken down machinery and selling them to the highest bidder. Scars and ripped skin act as a reminder of her history. It becomes painful to her as she realizes the scars are almost completely taking over her hands. She begins to ponder how long she has been living this life and how much longer she intends to.

She collects her things and steps out of the AT-AT onto the hot sand and steps towards her red speeder. The sack on the side of the speeder is empty, with only her staff that she carries with her everywhere she goes. The security of the staff gives her freedom, as she feels stronger with it in her hand. Her oversized scarf drags behind her, sweeping the sand as she walks towards the speeder. She takes a step and lunges her leg over the other side of the speeder and takes a grasp on the handles. She feels complete and sure of herself when she is on her speeder. She knows it and it knows her. She takes her scarf and wraps it around herself for extra protection against the sand while driving. As she ignites the speeder, she pulls down her goggles, ready to go.

All that she can see is the horizon, filled with the warm yellow light from the sun, collapsing the fields under the heat. She pushes forward as the heat continues to settle on her skin, through her garments. She needs to. For reasons unknown, she continues to fight for her life. She goes through the struggle of living, with eating the most minimal amount, sleep deprived and drinks water sparingly because she doesn’t know when she will get her next liter. She’s barely holding on but something is telling her to continue. Every night, as she closes her eyes, and seeps into the darkness. Restlessly moving around in the space that she calls her bed, she never dreams. Her mind is filled with noise, noises that make her uncomfortable. Through the noise and darkness, she can see another pair of eyes. Piercingly blue, filled with sadness, brimming with a glimmer of hope. The kind of hope that can save her.

The speeder comes to a stop. She looks up at the fallen Star Destroyer, even though she’s here almost every day, she’s always amazed. The massive structure has provided her a sense of security as no one else dares enters. It’s a constant reminder of the horrific events of the past, and the memories continue to burden the people on Jakku. She enters and feels a sudden coolness in the air as the ship is buried beneath the sun, where no light can enter except for her own flashlight. This ship is like second nature to her now, she knows where everything is, and where the connections have meaning to and from. She’s thankful for this fallen destroyer, as it provides her the strength to keep going.

She continues to scavenge the ship, collecting her items in a small bag of her own making. As she feels satisfied with her collection, she looks down and grabs the rope that allowed her to climb to the top of the bridge. She slowly slides down the rope, as she glances at the vast openness of the Star Destroyer. She can’t help but smile slightly, as the wind blows past her on her way down the ship. It’s the small things that keep her going, she assumes. The time is closing in on her, knowing that she needs to make it the Outpost in order to sell her collected items. She rushes to the speeder and fills the sack with her scavenged items. She feels weary that it might not be enough to buy her food and water for the night, but she needs to get back as soon as possible. Time is limiting.

She’s back on the speeder, scarf around her, and her staff secured in place. She ignites the speeder and rushes back to the Outpost. She looks straight ahead and she notices something out of the ordinary. Possibly a ship and a person, maybe two. She feels uneasy. She ignores what she is feeling and pushes forward. Not breaking her speed, she continues in the same direction. In the pit of her stomach she knows she can no longer ignore the feeling, she closes her eyes for a slight moment. Only to be shocked by the blue eyes that haunt her every night. What could this possibly mean, she wonders? Her stomach growls from hunger, and she decides to continue in the same vicinity as the ship and clearly one person.

There’s no stopping, she must get back on time. She can see an old x-wing, with an older gentleman with a cloak standing beside it. Not moving. Eerily staring at her, as the feeling in her stomach reaches a point of pain, she forces herself to keep going. She whizzes by, barely looking at the man that has been staring at her. She couldn’t help but feel curious. Her mind fills with noise again. She looks back at the man, from such a far distance. He’s still there. The noise becomes drowned out by the pain of hunger and thirst. She looks ahead and slowly begins to wonder who that man was.

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