[ In many ways, Nar Shaddaa reminds her of Jakku—or it would, if Jakku were anything but barren wasteland. There's something homey and reassuring about finding that she understands so acutely how the people work, though, and how they respond in all the same ways; everyone is looking out for themselves. It's easy to predict people who are looking out for their own interests because they rarely surprise you.
Her intelligence leads her to a junkyard, and she's almost ready to give up and start back at square one, believing she's come all this way for nothing, when a voice sounds behind her. Slowly, Rey raises her hands; there's a time to do something reckless, and there's a time to wait for more options—this is the latter.
A blaster, the one Han had given her, drops out of one of her hands as she raises them behind her head. A gesture of open surrender, she hopes. ] My name is Rey.
[ Slowly, she begins to turn around, catching a glimpse of red hair curling out from around the barrel of a blaster. Rey gulps, a hair trigger from the end of her journey, a selfish diversion from what the galaxy actually needs her to do. It would serve her right. ]
no subject
Her intelligence leads her to a junkyard, and she's almost ready to give up and start back at square one, believing she's come all this way for nothing, when a voice sounds behind her. Slowly, Rey raises her hands; there's a time to do something reckless, and there's a time to wait for more options—this is the latter.
A blaster, the one Han had given her, drops out of one of her hands as she raises them behind her head. A gesture of open surrender, she hopes. ] My name is Rey.
[ Slowly, she begins to turn around, catching a glimpse of red hair curling out from around the barrel of a blaster. Rey gulps, a hair trigger from the end of her journey, a selfish diversion from what the galaxy actually needs her to do. It would serve her right. ]
And I was sent by my father, Luke Skywalker.