Rey looks around, hesitant, hand on her weapon. It’s dark. The wind blows. It’s tricky, out on the edge of the desert, to know what’s a threat and what isn’t, what’s old metal settling into sand and what’s someone sneaking up on her.
It’s too hot too sleep inside. It’s too hot to sleep outside, really, but at least there’s the wind making it possible to pretend it’s cooler than it is.
But there’s noises, strange lights in the distance, and everything wakes her up, over and over until the sun flares on the horizon and she drags herself up.
Her eyes are gritty from dry air and bad sleep, her stomach clenches, and she ducks inside to find something to put into it before heading out for the day.
She finds her way into one of the star cruisers, climbs up and in and works, detaching one piece after another, counting portions as she does, hoping the prices haven’t gone down too much.
Imagines it’s cooler in here, as sweat collects in the hollow of her throat, drips between her shoulder blades. As the still, dusty air threatens to choke her. At least there’s no sun in her eyes in here.
She climbs out mid-afternoon, when the water runs out. Heads for town, washes up her haul, collects her meager portion from Unkar Plutt and goes home.
In the night the wind shifts, suddenly, blows sand into her eyes, but cool air with it. The first hint of a change in season, the faint mysterious scent of water from far away.
There are storm clouds on the horizon, blanking out the stars, lightning slashing down toward the ground. The thunder’s rumbling wiped away by the wind before it reaches here, but the light carries far. She licks her chapped lips, swallows the warm, salt-tinged stuff from her canteen, and dreams of oceans.