Rey had never really learnt how to deal with emotions like excitement, a pit of dread always grew in her stomach whenever the sensation came about as her mind fought to figure out how it was all going to go horribly wrong. She’d restored a ship worth thousands of portions only to have it stolen at the last moment. She’d fled the planet she’d spent a lifetime waiting for her family on only to see the man she left with injured close to death - and to watch a legend die. So much trust and faith had been placed in her hands as the General had personally tasked her with finding her brother and bringing him home. Was she not aware of the extraordinarily bad luck that followed her around?
She had persevered, fought on as desperately and determinedly as she always did. In the end Rey had found the man she was tasked with finding - the man she believed to be no more than a myth. But he was just a man, and what little time they had to familiarise themselves with each other, she learnt that he was a friendly, kind, old man. A man with a lot of regrets and plenty of advice and support to provide Rey. At the end of the day, he still put the same level of expectation on her as the rest of the Resistance had.
She understood that this time it was far more than a few thousand portions that she would lose if something went wrong, this was far more serious. The First Order could win, the Resistance and the New Republic could fall, who knew what that meant.
It was this thought, circling on repeat in her mind, that left her pacing through the halls of the Resistance Base late at night. She couldn’t sleep, wracking her brain for a way to fight and a way to win, to do what was right. That was only half the struggle - adjusting to such a different way of life had been more of a challenge than she had thought. The people and their behaviour’s and emotions were different. Their mannerisms seemed bizarre at times. Sometimes they spoke in words even she didn’t understand. Her mind fought for understanding during the day, and at night tried to figure out how she was meant to succeed. She knew that the Resistance were behind her every step of the way, but the title of Jedi - which she would eventually gain - would place yet more trust and expectation onto her shoulders.
The night’s on D’Qar were safe, much safer than those on Jakku, and she was glad of it. It allowed her the space and the freedom she had sought for years, no longer having to cater for her homemade imprisonment, and she wandered with curiosity and questions filling her mind every time she came across a new unknown.
The latest unknown was a man, a man that she had seen several times and had heard referred to as Commander Dameron. What she found curious about him now was how she had never come across him at night before, and why he was up at this hour. She remembered him slightly, one of the many new faces she had encountered before she had left to find Luke. They had shared an awkward embrace when the map was completed, and they had gone their separate ways. Despite the late hour, she thought that - perhaps - she should speak to the man. With Finn still unconscious, she was lacking in friendship (and while she had never had friends on Jakku - simply people she could trust, a people she couldn’t - she missed the dynamic and the support of having someone truly by her side).
“Hello.” She said, her voice quieter than she had intended it to be. It occured to her that she might have interrupted the man doing something, and that she might not be wanted around. Still, until he made it clear that the case was as such, she pressed on. “I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Rey. Why are you up so late, Commander?”