Run.

Protect.

For Poe.

For Poe.

To this day, I don't understand if my cycle of reminders was motivation to run, or if I wanted to distract myself from the guilt eating me alive. Against everything, in the moments I ran, I wished for Poe and I to find one another again. 

An explosion behind BB-8 and I simultaneously brought our running to a halt and fractured what hope I held within Poe's survival. The droid guiding me turned to watch the smoke cloud. I didn't. Seeing was believing, and I refused to do so.

I sucked in a sharp breath and slowed my sprint to a jog. In front of me, the orange and white droid continued to roll, with significantly less determination.

Unlike BB-8, the parts that kept me moving fell tired after an hour of jogging. I started to slow; he decided to roll behind me. His body rammed into my ankles whenever I tried to stop.

Our trek continued through what was left of the night. With the sun rise came its rays; with that came my body temperature rising and excessive perspiration. Minutes after walking in the sun, my legs decided they couldn't take any more. I tumbled into the sand.

BB-8 noticed the thud and rolled to my side. His head bopped into my own, ensuring I was alive, at the least. He positioned his body to block the sun from my face. I faintly heard him power down.

The little droid woke me by giving me a loving shock to my abdomen. I shot up. Another nudge from him brought me to my knees.

"Go see if you can find water," I croaked. "Get a head start."

BB-8 held little faith in my ability to follow. I stood. He rolled along, though his head kept rotating back to ensure I was still following.

I tied my brown three quarter sleeved jacket at the start of my jeans, which left me in my black half shirt. I tightened the shoulder holsters that held my blasters and did the same to the holster on my thigh that kept my lightsaber in place.

All the while, I watched BB-8 roll up the hill, his head turned to ensure I was climbing it. A frightened beep came from him as he tumbled down the other side.

I quickened my pace. At the top of the hill, I found out BB-8 hadn't fallen. A man aboard an animal wrapped my droid in a net. He was scampering away with him.

I didn't hesitate to withdraw a blaster and fire two shots: one at the feet of the beast and the other at the rope dragging BB-8 along. At the same time I was sprinting to grab him and go, a girl dressed in dirty grey clothes appeared from over the adjacent hill.

My presence went unnoticed to her until I avoided colliding with her body by punching her in the jaw.

I unveiled BB-8, shoved him with my hands, then scrambled to follow his retreating figure. The girl stabbed her staff into the jacket hanging from my jeans. I flipped to my back. My legs rammed into her knees. I ran. She followed.

Having already been incredibly fatigued, I drew the lightsaber from its holster. The girl skidded to a stop, barely missing my saber being lodged in her face.

"He is not yours to take," she said.

"He is not yours either," I said.

Circling our stand off rapidly, BB-8 whistled in tones that clarified me as one of his owners.

The girl bowed her head for a moment. "My apologies."

"You know your way around here?" I asked. 

She nodded. 

"Where can I buy a ship?"

The girl pointed. "Niima Outpost is that way. You'll never make it."

"Not with my dehydration," I sighed.

"I.. I'll trade you for the droid," the girl said. She was holding a skin sack in her hands.

"Over my dead body," I snapped.

"Which appears will happen soon," she said. She then sighed, losing the negotiation act. "Are you truly a..?"

"Am I truly what?" I asked impatiently.

"A Jedi?" she asked. "I just thought... The Jedi haven't been seen for..."

"It's best not tell anyone you saw me," I interrupted. I started to walk. I stopped when she threw the sack at my feet. I looked at her.

"Drink it, then I ask you to leave," she said. 

I took a few long sips. I looked into the distance, trying to find a speck I could classify as a town. I had no such luck.

"Where do you come from?" the girl wondered.

"Classified," beeped BB-8, and I nodded.

"Really? Me, too. Big secret," said the girl sarcastically. "Stay off Kelvin Ridge. Keep away from the sinking fields in the north-- you'll drown in the sand."

I handed the sack to her. "What's your name, kid?"

"Rey," she called as she walked away. "And you might want to fix his antenna. It's bent."