Sandstorm

Rey failed even to wriggle Plutt's saggy skin with the ****.

The effort of carving so many tunnels through the sand had finally exceeded the limits of her endurance. But Plutt couldn't be left to decay in her home. Rey’s joints and muscles screamed with every inch she dragged the heavy Crolute.

Wind whistled between the dunes in the haunting way that signaled a coming sandstorm. Rey peeked outside. The sand was beginning to lift and swirl in the orange glow of early morning. She needed to get Plutt out of the AT-AT, now.

Her chest heaved by the time the dead junk boss plopped onto the sand. Quickly, she tried to secure the hatch. It closed only two thirds before sticking. Of course, she thought.

If a proper sandstorm was forming, the hatch needed to be locked and sealed tight. Anything short of a complete seal would allow a fine mixture of wind and sand to enter Hellhound Two. The careless suffocated in their sleep inhaling the fine grains along with the air. Rey wiped exhaustion from her eyes and examined the hatch. A length of sharpened metal was bonded to it. Blood dripped from the rudimentary blade.

She watched a puddle form in horrified silence, images of Plutt’s head rolling in the sand.

Rey shook herself. Focus on the problem, she thought. There were marks on the floor where Plutt had measured off the proper position to stand. So that piece of metal could sever his head cleanly at the neck. How long had he been planning this?

Bright silver in color, the hull-bonding agent used to fuse blade to hatch must have come from Rey’s own stash. She wondered if any had somehow leaked into the hinges. If it had, the hatch would never shut again. But if that were true, it wouldn’t be moving at all, she thought.

The bonding agent was made to withstand hyperspace jumps. Nothing short of a massive explosion could weaken the bond. Maybe if...

Focus, Rey! You're getting distracted by things that don't matter.

But she was so tired. She had never wanted anything more than she wanted sleep at that moment. Perhaps if she found a spot at the far end of Hellhound Two and covered her face with cloth?

Her eyes found a hammer on the ground. Before Plutt had spotted her, he'd been hammering away at... something. So what was it? Rey had serviced this hatch for years. She examined it now with the intimate knowledge of a long time lover, ignoring the rising wail of the wind.

Frustration. Too much of the hatch was covered in shadow her eyes failed to penetrate. A strong wind whipped sand into the AT-AT, stinging and biting her naked flesh like swarming insects, crippling her concentration.

Rey leaned out of the AT-AT to check the growing storm, but a glint behind one hinge grabbed her attention. There it was. A small wedge of metal. Easy to overlook, but, once seen, could not be unseen. The bastard had jammed the hatch intentionally.

That wasn’t obvious to you already?

Ignore it, Rey. It’s just trying to distract you.

Succeeding.

Focus! Could she pull or pry it loose? She pinched it with her fingertips, just to be thorough, but it was hammered in tight and wouldn’t budge. The hammer on the floor was just a simple block of metal and wood. That would be no use either.

More sand blew through the opening. She felt an itch in her throat. She didn't have time to search for tools that were probably no longer here.

There was nothing else to do then. She had to use the ****.

Careful, little one.

"Shut up."

A calming breath was interrupted by a fit of sand-induced coughing. When it finally ceased, she skipped the deep breathing and focused completely on the object, pushing all else from her mind.

At first, nothing. Then something inside her seemed to break. Pain like acid in her veins. She was dimly aware of tears falling freely from her eyes.

But the object wobbled. Rey reached her hand forward, pulled with her mind, the same way she had battled Kylo Ren for Luke's old lightsaber before splitting it in half. She screamed until her voice cracked. The object slipped the slightest bit, then, with a ping, flew freely toward her outstretched hand. The hatch banged shut and she quickly sealed it, collapsing to the floor, chest heaving.

Rey scrunched her eyebrows. Blood trickled down her forearm. She followed the red line up to a hole in the center of her palm where the object had sailed clean through it. Oddly, the dim pain was a relief compared to the effort of using the **** moments ago.

Rey clutched her hand to her chest and dragged herself off the floor to see what medical supplies remained. All the good stuff was long gone, but there was a bottle of **** and a clean roll of white bandages. Rey gritted her teeth, poured **** onto both sides of the puncture, then wrapped it with layers of bandage.

Though excruciating, she could still open and close her fingers completely. Evidence that anything vital had been missed.

Before sleep, nourishment. Rey headed to the self-charging fuel cells. No one with any sanity would store rations here. The liquid charging compound was volatile, and highly toxic. That's probably why the AT-AT had laid abandoned so long before she found it. But years ago, on pure coincidence, Rey had uncovered a couple dozen fuel waste canisters and managed to drain Hellhound Two's fuel cells completely.

Back then, Rey had figured, if the canisters could protect the outside world from the fuel within, the reverse should also be true. A perfect hiding place, then. She rolled six of the cylindrical canisters out of the fuel cell, each the size of her torso and back-achingly heavy.

Five large canisters of water, Rey thought. One canister of rations.

Rey smiled. She spent the next four days inside the AT-AT, eating, drinking, and sleeping while the sandstorm blew itself out.

During the long stretches of downtime, she explored. Plutt had managed to remove or destroy most of her old stuff, but she did find an old Imperial grooming razor she had long ago stashed away in a random weapons locker. She looked at her matted tuft of dark pubic hair, then searched for a bowl. Carefully, she shaved herself completely, using some of her precious water to ease the effort.

The feeling of being bare was odd and arousing. Rey hurried to the cockpit where she removed a panel to reveal a secret compartment. That had been raided, probably by Plutts, but then she removed a second panel to reveal a stack of holodiscs. Rey hadn't hidden these here, and had only stumbled on them by accident. The discs likely belonged to one of the Imperial soldiers before Hellhound Two had fallen. She took the disc on the top and inserted it into the holodeck inside the cockpit.

Her fingers found their way to her newly smooth genitals. Pussy, Rey thought. At least, that's what the human male called it on the holodisc she was watching.

She rubbed the sensitive ridge of flesh at the top, moaning and breathing heavy. On these occasions in the past, she had thought of Poe, or Fin. Today, her fantasy was dominated by Kylo Ren. At first, she recoiled from the thought. But mental images of his broad chest had her panting.

Rey's legs shook with her orgasm. She fell asleep with the holodisc still playing, gently rubbing herself as she came down from her climax.