Chapter Text
Rey’s hand slammed down on the off button on her phone, shutting off her alarm as soon as she regained consciousness. A groan left her lips as her eyes opened to the blinding sunlight filtering in through her window. She quickly covered her face with a pillow, stifling another groan as her hangover quickly took hold. A wave of nausea nearly overwhelmed the feeling of “what the fuck happened last night,” as memories slowly flooded back to her.
It took a moment of deep breathing before she was ready to face the light again. Slowly, she removed the pillow, and squinted as the sun hit her eyes, turning her head away from her window. Another groan left her lips as she remembered why she’d set her alarm so early, and regret filled her at the thought of her previous night.
She’d landed an interview at the Jakku Museum of Space History, the somewhat rundown museum located five blocks from her studio apartment. Three days prior she’d seen an ad in the paper stating they were looking for a new night guard, and given her already unhealthy sleeping habits, it didn’t seem like a terrible idea.
The phone call had come in last night just after the sun had set, her mobile ringing like mad as she set down her groceries, and hurried to answer it. The news that she had gotten an interview filled her with a mixture of relief and hope. Maybe now she’d finally be able to stop worrying about paying the bills each month. She’d never be overdue on her rent again.
With a smile the woman on the other end of the line couldn’t see, she accepted the job, and shortly after hung up the phone ready to celebrate her small victory.
It didn’t take her long to rummage through her bags for the bottle of tequila she’d purchased that evening—one she’d initially intended to use as part of her weekly ritual of getting drunk and watching tv she’d begun in college— and pull it out with a gleeful laugh. A smile remained on her face as she poured her drink, not even the sting of the alcohol burning her throat wiping it from her lips. For the first time in a long time, she had felt happy.
She wasn’t feeling that way the morning of the interview. Her head was throbbing too much for her to think, and her vision was blurred and the room was spinning slightly. Oh, how deeply she regretted her decision to continue drunk Thursday as usual.
If it weren’t for the interview she had at half past nine, she wouldn’t have gotten out of bed, but she had just enough motivation to push herself up into a sitting position, and get out of bed. Another wave of nausea quickly overwhelmed her, and she found herself hunched over the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach into the bowl.
Once she was finished, she hurriedly flushed the toilet, and brushed her teeth before hopping into the shower, the rare occurrence of hot water providing some reprieve from the worst hangover she’d had since she’d graduated from college. She sighed as it washed over her, leaning against the cool, tiled wall as the water seemingly washed away the mistakes of the previous night.
Ten minutes later she stood before her closet, a towel wrapped around her body as she tried to find the most professional looking outfit she owned. She would essentially have to pull something out of thin air, being a theater student with no job didn’t exactly leave money for business clothes, but eventually she settled for a navy blue button down and black skinny jeans. Hopefully no one at the museum would notice or care that they were jeans and not the traditional slacks professional women often wore. Maybe her potential employer would care, maybe they wouldn’t.
She threw on her clothes hurriedly, and headed back into her bathroom to examine her appearance with a clearer head. Considering how terrible she felt, she didn’t look awful. The bags under her eyes were only somewhat visible, slightly more purple than they ought to be, but not absurdly puffy.
She reached for the little bin she kept beneath her sink, and pulled out a tube of concealer, dabbing a little underneath her eyes before trading it for mascara.
Once she finished making herself look presentable, she checked the time on her phone to find that it was already fifteen past nine, and she was in for a twenty minute walk to the museum. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath, grabbing her phone and keys from the sink as she rushed out of her bathroom.
She barely remembered grabbing her purse or her jacket as she slipped onto her building’s agonizingly slow elevator, which usually took up a good five minutes out of any journey she took away from home. The descent to the ground was spent shifting anxiously from her right foot to her left, and checking the time to see how fast she would have to run once she finally reached the ground.
It would turn out to be a god damned sprint. As soon as the doors open, Rey burst forth from the elevator and ran out of her building’s tiny lobby onto the streets of Atlanta, and made a beeline for the museum.
She nearly knocked over several other pedestrians as she barreled down the street, muttering brief apologies to the first few before giving up on the prospect entirely.
When she finally rounded the corner that would lead her to the museum, she sighed, and checked her phone. She still had two minutes, she’d gotten there with a miraculous amount of time to spare. Taking a quick moment to adjust her slightly disheveled appearance, and sip the coffee she’d brought out of her apartment, she then walked toward it, ignoring the remaining wave of nausea that washed over her when she went through the revolving door at the front.
Steadying herself, she made her way to the round desk at the front, trying and failing to not be distracted by the enormous model of the Millenium Falcon hanging above it. Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t the only distraction, either.
A droid whose plaque announced he was BB-8 was proudly displayed on a little podium with ramps running up all four of its sides, as if the lifeless droid would be able to go up and down as it pleased. Even though she knew it couldn’t, and would never be able to move, the sight of it put a smile on Rey’s face, one that stayed there as she approached the receptionist sitting behind the desk.
“Excuse me?” She asked politely, clearing her throat with a cringe upon hearing the raspiness that lined her voice. She waited until the elderly looking woman with glasses akin to those worn in the fifties looked up at her before she continued, “Hi, my name’s Rey Smith, I’ve got an interview with your manager, I believe?”
“Larry?” The woman asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Rey gave her a firm nod, “Yes, um, where should I go?”
The woman turned around, and pointed to a door on the far wall with her right hand, “That’s his office over there, the big, intimidating door with his name on it. Can’t miss it.”
Giving the woman a quick thanks, Rey power walked over to the door, and shifted nervously on her feet before giving it three firm knocks, and waiting patiently for the man on the other side to open it. Mercifully, she didn’t have to wait long. After a moment, an aging man with grey hair and a wiry frame opened the door, and looked down at her through thinly framed glasses. “Rey, I presume?”
She smiled and nodded, “Yes sir,” she replied, stepping into the office as she opened the door wider to allow her entrance, “I’m here about the night guard position?”
The man took his seat behind a large, ornate looking desk, and took off his glasses, setting them down on the edge of the desk before he crossed his hands over his chest, “Yes, you are,” he told her, “See, we’ve recently had to fire our nightguard, and we need to fill the position immediately. It is of the utmost importance that this museum not go one night unguarded.”
“Why’s that?”
“Too many valuable things. I’ll show you when we take the tour in a moment, assuming you accept, that is.”
Rey blinked at him. He wasn’t even going to ask her questions, he was just going to let her have this job? It felt like a dream come true, like what she was experiencing couldn’t possibly be real. After weeks and weeks of job hunting, this was just falling into her lap like that? “Of course, I accept, when do I start?”
“Well, we'd like you to start tonight if you can,” Larry told her, then upon seeing her surprised face, he added, “Don’t worry, it doesn’t require much training. Do you know how to turn on a flashlight?”
“Yes?”
“Do you know what number to call if you need the police?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re fine, unless you have a criminal record.”
She thought for a moment, “I got a speeding ticket in high school.”
Larry chuckled, then slowly stood, “My dear, everyone got a speeding ticket in high school,” he assured her, then he reached out his hand, “Welcome to the Jakku Museum of Space History, Miss. Smith.”
Rey shook his hand, “The pleasure’s mine, sir.”
She was given another smile, then her new boss walked out from behind his desk, and gestured for her to follow him as he began his tour. He led her past the lobby into the first floor corridor, where she was immediately met with an enlarged photograph on the wall of scientists surrounding a crashed ship.
“I trust you know the story behind this museum, my dear?” Larry asked as they walked past the photo, and toward the other displays on the museum’s first floor.
She shrugged, “Sort of, it’s been awhile since I read anything about the crash.”
Larry nodded politely, and led her past a glass encased, miniaturized Millenium Falcon, “In 1977, a strange sight was spotted over Atlanta. People all over the city and it’s surrounding regions were pouring out of their homes onto the streets as something streamed across the sky. At first, it was thought to be a meteor…”
“But it was a ship.”
“It was a ship. The name of the ship was later discovered to be the Millenium Falcon, at least, that’s what they discovered from the information stored on the ship’s computer. That, amongst everything else we’ve learned about the galaxy the ship came from. It took them years to translate the language, but if they could translate Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics, they could translate that.”
“Wasn’t there a pilot? I read somewhere they found a body.”
“They did, but they couldn’t tell who it was, the body had become so mangled in the crash, and with nothing to compare the DNA to, there was no telling where the man came from.”
“It was a man?”
“They were able to discern that much, but no one knows who he is or why he flew the Falcon out as far as he did. I’ve done a lot of speculation as to why… Especially with… Never mind.”
Rey looked at him confusedly, “Especially with what, sir?”
Larry didn’t answer her as they passed another display, this one showcasing what Larry explained to be miniature x-wings and TIE fighters, each appearing to be in flight, the former firing down on the latter while the latter fired down on the miniaturized people below in some sort of nighttime desert. She couldn’t quite place the odd feeling she got when she looked at their positions, for whomever had placed them had clearly taken great care. Each one of the small figures looked like they were genuinely terrified and running for their lives, some even had scared expressions on their faces.
Her boss continued to explain the Millenium Falcon’s story as they walked, passing more and more displays with miniaturized people and spaceships, “Once they realized how much was on there, they shipped the information to some scientists in Washington, and a somewhat clear history was made out.”
“What history is that, exactly?” Rey asked, knowing only so little about what had happened so long ago in that galaxy so far away.
A subtle, but present grin arose on Larry’s face, “I’ll show you,” he told her, then she was being led up a staircase, and onto the second level of the museum to begin the next leg of the tour.
As the tour went on, she was reminded more and more of the stories she’d grown up hearing. She relistened to the story of Anakin Skywalker, the man who had started off as a Jedi believed to be some chosen one, and became one of the darkest sith lords. In the records they’d found on board the Millenium Falcon, however, Luke Skywalker had said he’d turned back to the light in his final moments, and saved his life. At least, according to the files they’d found on the Falcon.
She relearned the story of all the Skywalkers as they went, the stories of Poe Dameron and the Resistance, the stories of the Rogue One crew, Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia, and Han Solo. When they passed the wax figure of the younger version of Han, Rey noticed that a thin layer of dust coating the shoulders of his black vest, and Larry sighed, “The museum’s not what it used to be, he’s a little scruffy looking now, but I guess not even Han Solo can bring guests.”
Eventually, they finished their tour, just as the museum was closing, and returned to Larry’s office where she was given a sleek, black uniform, “These are yours,” Larry told her, “Get changed, then I’ll give you the instruction manual. Then I’ll have to be on my way, I’m afraid, it’s nearly sundown.”
Rey smiled at him, and rushed into the nearby bathroom to get changed. Her heart was racing the whole time as she took the greyblazer with the museum’s logo embroidered in a patch on the side, a pair of professional looking grey slacks, and a black, button down shirt that looked fancier than anything she presently owned. Well, just about anything looked fancier than all the clothes she possessed by default, since she obtained all of her clothes from the local Goodwill.
She shook her head, then she changed out of her clothes, and into her work uniform. A minute later she emerged from her bathroom stall, and stared at herself in the mirror. She looked more professional than she ever looked before, and she loved it. If only she could get a job in what she’d spent four years earning a degree in, that would make her life even better.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Larry was bidding the receptionist farewell as she walked out the doors. She walked up to him and did a spin to show off her new outfit, which earned her a chuckle. “Enjoying yourself?”
She grinned, “I might be, um, thank you again for accepting my application,” she said, “You’ve saved me from eviction.”
“No, thank you, Miss. Smith for saving me from having to take on the night guard role.”
Still processing everything she’d seen, Rey gave her boss a nod as she stared around the lobby of her new workplace. She tugged on the lapel of her work blazer, straightening it out as Larry gave her a few last minute tips, including an instruction manual which she intended to read thoroughly. A job with too few rules was too good to be true.
Larry handed her a flashlight, then he looked outside nervously, “Well, the sun’s nearly down, so I’d beat be going. Just remember, read the instruction manual, and you’ll be fine.”
Rey smiled, “Don’t worry, I can handle it. Your museum’s in good hands.”
Her boss returned the smile, then he looked outside again, and tipped his hat to her, “Good luck, Rey,” he said, his expression firm and serious as he finally turned, and walked out the door.
Once he was gone, Rey reached into her back pocket, and grabbed the keys he’d handed her before she set about locking the doors to all the exits as Larry had instructed her. When she finished with that, she returned to the front desk, patting the BB-8 statue on the head as she did so before she sat down, and opened the instruction manual.
The manual began like normal, starting with the one thing she’d already done; lock up the doors. The second instruction was to lock up the Ewoks, claiming they liked to run around. Rey’s brows furrowed at that. How the hell would wax figures with fur be running around?
She didn’t question it, reasoning with herself that it was probably just her boss interjecting humor into the instructions, and she stood up to lock up the Ewoks. If memory served, they were on the second floor of the museum next to a display of the rebellion celebrating their victory over the Empire.
With a sigh, she stood up to begin her task of locking up the Ewoks and the other creatures listed under instructions two to five, barely noticing that the droid keeping her company was no longer on his pedestal. When she did notice, she stopped walking toward the central stairwell, and turned around slowly to see that the droid was indeed gone.
She blanched as she looked around desperately for the droid, “What the hell?” She asked, rushing back to where it had stood just moments earlier, with the last of the sun’s rays reflecting off its white surface.
It was impossible. The damn thing couldn’t just be gone, she’s locked up every door to the museum. There was no way anyone would’ve been able to sneak in and steal it without her watching unless they were already in the museum, and she had just checked with Larry. There was no one in there but her, so unless the thing moved itself…
Just as that last thought crossed her mind, she heard a quiet, rumbling sound, and she swallowed nervously as she tuned her ears into the noise. It came from behind her, and sounded as if someone had rolled a bowling ball on the hardwood floors of the museum. The noise got closer and closer, and just as she whirled around, it stopped. She looked around in confusion, seeing nothing there… until she looked down.
There, sitting patiently at her feet, beeping and twittering away, was the droid.
She heard a scream, and it took a second before she realized it was her own as she stumbled back against the desk. The droid beeped worriedly as it followed her, fretting about her space as of checking to see if she was hurt. “What the hell?” She asked, bending down to its level to examine it further.
It was a trick, it had to be. There was no other rational explanation for why this droid had come to life in front of her. Someone must’ve been controlling it with a remote of some sort, they had to be. Perhaps Larry was still hidden away somewhere, playing a prank on his new employee. Though he seemed an eccentric fellow, this sort of prank seemed below him, and she shook the thought from her mind.
“How are you doing this, then?” Rey asked the little creature, reaching out to it, “Hmm? Who’s driving you?”
The droid bumped its head into the palm of her hand. She couldn’t help the smile that followed as she rubbed the top of its head, then she stood up, reaching for her instruction manual once again, “Right, well, I need to lock up the animals and apparently the entire fifth floor…”
She froze where she was reading, for the instruction just under the one telling her to lock up the animals was “pet BB-8, let him follow you if he wants to.”
Staring down at the droid, she looked up at the other instructions where she was warned to lock up the animals, and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Before she could read further to answer the questions forming in her mind, she heard the distant sounds of men shouting, and noises that sounded oddly like gunfire despite being much higher in pitch. Overhead, a stomping of sorts echoed throughout the halls, and her eyes widened in fear.
What the hell is happening?
Rey immediately rushed for the elevator, allowing the little droid to follow her inside as she slammed the button for the second floor, then pressed the “close doors,” button more times than necessary. Once the doors opened, she stepped out onto the second floor into chaos.
The moment she stepped out of the elevator, she was surrounded by stormtroopers, their blasters pointed angrily at her face as they glared at her through their helmets. “Halt! Who are you?” One of them cried.
Rey put her hands up and pressed herself against the elevator, nearly tripping over BB-8 as she did so. Her heart raced at the speed of sound as she stared down their weapons. All she could think was, impossible, this is impossible.
But it was real, it was right in front of her. Somehow, she wasn’t sure exactly, the museum had come to life, and now the stormtroopers whose costumes she’d mocked earlier were pointing their weapons at her face. She didn’t want to know if they were actually able to fire. “I’m… I’m Rey,” she told them after a moment, “I’m… I’m the new night guard.”
“What happened to the old one?” Another trooper asked.
“Where’s Sebastian?”
“What did you do to him?”
Their questions grew into shouts, and the blasters were pointed even closer toward her face. Rey feared for her life if those triggers were pulled, until suddenly she felt a hand on her wrist, and she turned to stare into a pair of friendly looking brown eyes, “Follow me,” the man said, then she was being dragged out from under the stormtroopers’ aggressive blaster hold, and out into the hallways of the museum, BB-8 and blaster fire both hot on her heels as she ran for dear life, never once letting go of the hand holding onto hers.
Once they were out of range of the blaster fire, Rey turned and looked at her rescuer while they ran. He was a bit taller than her, and rather handsome if she were being perfectly honest. He had a head of short, but wavy dark hair and wore a beige colored jacket with the red symbol of the resistance on the sleeve. He must’ve been one of the good guys, she supposed as he led her into a second elevator, and pressed the button for the third floor.
“Who are you?” She asked as they ran, though she felt recognition dawning on her as she looked at him. She would swear she’d seen him at one point during her tour earlier...
“Commander Poe Dameron, the resistance’s best pilot,” he replied smugly as their run became a walk. He looked cautiously over his shoulder, as if making sure they weren’t being followed, then he continued leading her through the exhibits, most of them mercifully behind glass.
Rey’s eyes widened a little, “Right! I saw you when I took the tour earlier,” she told him, “I’m the—”
“New night guard, I know,” Poe said, leading her around a corner, then he chuckled, “He does this every time we get a new night guard.”
“Who does what?”
“Larry. Every time a new night guard comes in, he conveniently forgets to warn them about the museum’s night life.”
“No kidding!” Rey cried as the elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened to a hallway decked out with resistance symbols, the hallway she recognized as belonging to the key members of the resistance. At the end of it, she could even see its key players gathered around a table as if they were still plotting for battle, “But what’s happening? Why’s the museum alive? How am I talking to you?”
Poe let out another chuckle, “The others have asked the same questions, though not necessarily in that order.”
The night guard nodded, pretending like all this was making perfect sense when she was still convinced she would blink and find herself asleep at the front desk, none of her tasks completed— her tasks. She remembered the instruction manual she held in her free hand, and she froze in her tracks.
“You alright? I know it’s a lot to take in,” Poe said, smiling kindly at her.
Rey nodded, and pointed to the manual in her hand, “I just haven’t gotten started on this just yet. How important is it that the Ewoks be locked up?”
Poe shook his head, “Not very, they’ve gotten better at staying put over the last thirty years. Honestly, don’t worry too much about locking up the creatures. The only one you really need to concern yourself with is the fifth floor.” His gaze became deadly serious in that last sentence, his voice almost trembling as he mentioned the floor that Larry had been hesitant to briefly show her earlier.
“The floor with… Snoke?”
“Yes,” Poe said, “Lock it up, but you can’t ever go alone. Did you notice how the fifth floor requires a key on the elevator? You can’t get to it through after hours. Larry always locks them for you on the first night. Well, except for the main entrance, that he always leaves.” He led her to the end of the hallway, and they took a right as they walked up a staircase to the fourth floor, “Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll be right back,” he promised the droid, and it beeped happily as it sat at the bottom of the stairs waiting patiently for his friend.
“So the fourth floor, that’s just stormtroopers, other first order members, Darth Vader, and Kylo something?”
“Kylo Ren and his knights,” Poe answered as they climbed, “Not a nice guy, but nowhere near as bad as Snoke. Still, you better hope you don’t run into him.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Poe kept a hand protectively on her arm as they reached the top of the stairs, then he led her down a corridor that took them to the black doors marking the entrance to the fifth floor. One of two floors belonging to the apparently notorious first order, but the only one containing Snoke.
Just standing in front of the doors gave Rey a bad feeling as she looked up the carpeted stairs just beyond the doorway. Red lights shone down on her from above, casting an ominous glow over the entire hallway. She swallowed nervously as she reached into her pocket for the keys, producing them with a shaky hand that Poe easily caught.
“Don’t worry, they haven’t tried to come out yet, they usually take a while,” Poe told her, resting a firm hand on her shoulder, “I’ll keep watch.”
She smiled at him, surprised by how quick she was to trust this strange, previously made of wax man, then she reached for the doors and pulled them shut. Without saying another word, she locked them, and looked at Poe expectantly.
“You’re a natural,” he told her kindly, then he took her arm, and led her back down the corridor to the staircase they’d initially come up. Mercifully, there weren’t any exhibits here to give them trouble, just paintings and first order and empire insignias adorning the walls. They made it back down to the third floor without much effort, and Poe looked delighted to find BB-8 still waiting for him at the bottom.
With that, the two of them and the droid headed back down the hallway, and Poe led her back to that hallway that had been decked out in resistance gear, the people surrounding it still appearing as if they were deep in conversation, discussing some important battle strategy.
“So what’s next on the instruction list?”
Rey took the list out from where she’d tucked it into her arm, “Number seven, Get to know the people, a lot of them won’t trust you at first, but once you tell them you’re the night guard, you’ll be fine.”
“Alright, I can help you do that, what’s next?”
“If the second floor Han and second floor Leia are bickering, leave them be.”
Poe chuckled, “Finally. They’ve been telling night guards to put a stop to that for years.”
“Do they do it a lot?”
“No, but when they do it’s really better if you stay out of it,” Poe said, then he smiled as they approach the table the resistance members were all bunched over, “Let’s get started on number seven. Excuse me, everyone!”
The heads of everyone at the table turned to look at Rey and Poe, and the former of the two suddenly felt very small. Mercifully, Poe did all the talking for her. “Everyone, I want to introduce you to Rey, she’s our new night guard.”
Smiles grew on the faces of the resistance, and some waved as Rey gave them an awkward, “hi.”
“Rey, these are the finest men and women you will ever meet,” Poe started, then he branched off into naming everyone around the table until he got to the elegant looking older woman at the center, “And at the heart of it all, General Leia Organa.”
The general came around the table, and offered her hand out to Rey, who stared at her flustered, having heard the stories of what she’d accomplished throughout the day, “It’s an honor to meet you,” she said as she shook the woman’s hand, “I’ve heard the stories.”
Leia smiled, “So the manager told you about me, then?”
“He told me about all of you,” Rey said, looking around the room awestruck that they were actually standing there blinking back at her, and not standing stiff as wax figures, “But I didn’t know…”
The general frowned, then looked back at Poe, “Did he not tell her what happens when the sun goes down?”
“Has he ever told any of them?” Poe asked.
“Fair point.”
“How many night guards have you had?” Rey said incredulously, “How many have there been before me? How many people know about this?”
Poe looked at her sympathetically, then he gestured to the others, “Hey guys, if you wouldn’t mind giving Rey some space, the general and I will take it from here.”
With that, the other residents of the resistance wing of the museum began to disperse, leaving Rey with just Leia and Poe, and a stunned expression on her face as she was sat down against a display. “So where’s Han?” Poe asked, “I thought he said he’d be up here tonight.”
“He went off to try and break into the Falcon replica again.”
“He knows it won’t open right? It hasn’t opened for any of us in thirty something years?”
“He knows. He just thinks he can do it before his younger self does.”
As Leia and Poe laughed, Rey rubbed her temples as a massive headache came on. She heard another rolling sound as the little droid, BB-8 came up to her feet, and looked up at her expectantly. “What?” she asked it.
“He likes scratches,” Poe explained, bending down, and petting the droid as if it were a dog, “And he’s not shy around strangers.”
Rey took in several deep breaths, trying to prevent herself from becoming hysterical with fright. It was impossible. All of it was impossible. How the hell was this happening? She was hallucinating, she had to be. It was all she could think about as she bent down, and gave the droid a scratch on its little head. BB-8 beeped happily in return, and Rey smiled at it before she looked back up at Leia and Poe.
“How is this happening?” she asked, “How is it that you all come to life every night, and no one knows about it?”
“It’s the city’s best kept secret,” Leia explained, “When the museum was first built thirty eight years ago, they put all of us in here along with the artifacts they gathered from the Falcon. But they failed to realize that one of those artifacts had a certain… ability.”
“Needless to say the first night guards were in for one hell of a shock,” Poe continued, “Every night when the sun went down, we came to life, and every time the sun rose, we were back to wax. It’s been that way for thirty eight years.”
Rey let out a shuddering breath, and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What artifact?” she asked, “And where’s the Falcon now?”
“The Falcon? Hidden in some military warehouse supposedly,” Poe replied, then he looked at Leia, “The artifact on the other hand…”
“It’s on this floor,” she finished, “It has its own hallway and everything, but the hallway is closed off, never given on tours. All that you see is the doors leading up to it. They closed it down fifteen years ago when Snoke and the first order last attempted to get their hands on the tablet.”
Rey nodded slowly, “Why do they want it?”
Poe looked at Leia nervously, “None of us know why, but whoever sent the Falcon here sent that tablet with us. See, what brings us to life every night? It’s called the force.”
“The force?” Rey repeated, remembering what she’d heard of it in the stories she’d grown up hearing and relearned that day. Remembering what she’d been told of Sith and Jedi, of the people who were able to wield its power..
He gave her a nod, “Yes, the force. It’s something in the galaxy we come from that the general can explain better than I can, but basically, we have it there, it’s not so present here. That’s the general idea.
“Snoke wants that tablet, and whatever he wants it for, it’s not good. None of us can remember the final months of our lives, only what the data carries up to, which is about two years before the Falcon crash landed here. At least, that’s the estimate they’ve come up with. Nobody knows who sent the Falcon here or why. Or how it ended up here. A journey across multiple galaxies? It should have been impossible, but someone managed to do it.”
“We should show her, Poe,” Leia said, “Well, you should show her, I have troops to command.” She turned to Rey, “Any night could be the night Snoke manages to tear down those doors and do his worst.”
The commander smiled at Rey, then he held out his hand, “Come with me,” he said, then when she hesitated he sighed, “It’s your first night, you need someone who knows what things are like around here.”
Rey took his hand, seeing no reason not to trust him. He’d done nothing but help her so far. His grin remained on his face as he helped her up, and bid the general farewell before he led Rey down the hall toward the tablet’s exhibit, the little droid rolling along enthusiastically ahead of them.
The two spent the journey bonding, though it wasn’t a terribly long journey, and they arrived several minutes later at a pair of black painted doors that had a do not enter sign on them along with a lock, though lights appeared to be on inside. The sight of it gave Rey pause, but at the same time the room felt like it was calling out to her almost, like she needed to be in it.
“There’s a stormtrooper inside, he guards it,” Poe explained, “They placed him here fifteen years ago when Snoke first tried to get his hands on the tablet, since he deserted the first order. His penance for all his wrong doings before hand is to stay in that uniform, and guard the tablet to make sure it never happens again.”
“He just stays in there night after night?”
“Yep,” Poe replied, popping the p, “We have to knock to be let in, otherwise we’re stuck out here.” With that, Poe knocked on the door, tapping on it three times before they heard the sound of footsteps approaching them, and the door opened to reveal another stormtrooper. This one didn’t raise his blaster to them or even make the vaguest of threats. He simply sized them up for a moment, and allowed them entrance into an ornately decorated, gold and black hallway.
The hallway was at least a hundred feet in length, and along the walls about every fifteen feet or so were five golden pillars adorned with various symbols. Some pillars carried Resistance or Rebel symbols, others carried that of the empire and the First Order. All of them were a good fifteen feet in height from the floor to the ceiling, and Rey gasped as she laid eyes on where they met the high arch of the ceiling, which wasn’t just any ordinary ceiling.
Painted on the ceiling above was a map of the galaxy’s various star systems, the galaxy that the Millenium Falcon had come from. Rey stared up at it in awe, “Who painted this?” she asked as they walked past the stormtrooper, who gave them a subtle nod as they passed.
“A lot of people,” Poe answered her, “They found a map on the Falcon’s computers.”
Another shuddering breath left Rey’s lips as they walked further down the hall, her eyes at long last landing on the golden tablet resting a good five feet behind a velvet rope at the end. A curiosity overwhelmed her as she approached it, feeling as if she were compelled to get closer. Before she knew it, she’d reached the velvet rope at the hallway’s end, and Poe was having to put his hands on her shoulders to stop her.
“You feel it don’t you?” Poe asked beside her, “The pull of the force?”
“It’s impossible…"
“The tablet makes it possible,” the commander replied, stepping between Rey and the velvet rope that separated her from the tablet.
As Poe stepped into Rey’s line of sight, her eyes instantly drifted to him, “I don’t know much about it, but I’ve heard Leia explain it enough over the years that I have a vague idea. Someone in our galaxy, someone powerful, made this tablet into a conduit for the force. We don’t know why, and we don’t know how. All we know is that it’s here, and it brings us to life at night.”
Rey’s eyes fell back on the tablet. It was golden in color, and it had a series of drawings resembling ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics on the nine, button like squares that were carved into it. What Leia had called the force—the thing she’d always grown up hearing about as a myth since she’d first heard the legend of the Millenium Falcon—was positively swirling around it, calling out to her. It seemed like the tablet was glowing, as if it were emitting a golden light that beckoned her towards it. She wondered vaguely if this was why it was kept in this secret hall, guarded by this one, lone stormtrooper and a velvet rope.
“We also know that Snoke wants it, badly.” Poe turned to face the tablet himself, now, his eyes washing over it with a curious wonder that somehow he’d maintained through nearly forty years of existing in this museum, “All his efforts to get it have baffled us. We don’t know why he wants it so badly, but we know it’s not good. We’re just grateful that he can’t actually use the force like he could back home.”
“Do you have any theories?” Rey asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Several, but I doubt any of them are correct.” The commander glanced at the tablet once more, then he turned away, and began to walk back down the hall.
“Where are you going?”
“To show you the rest of the museum,” Poe replied as she hurried after him, “You need to bond with your people, Rey.”
Head still somewhat dizzy from the fact that they all came to life, she gave him a firm nod, and began to follow Poe around the museum. Together they explored all of the museum’s various wings, save for the fifth floor, which she knew would always be off limits at night.
She got introduced to the members of the rebellion from thirty years prior to Poe’s time on the second floor first, meeting a young Han Solo and a Leia who didn’t appear to be much older than she was. It was possible they were even the same age. When she asked, Leia told her that when it all went down, she’d been nineteen when it first started, and twenty three by the end of it. The twenty three year old Rey left the encounter feeling shocked when Poe took her down the hall to meet Luke Skywalker, the brother that Leia had been unable to stop gushing about once they got her to stop talking about her passion for her cause.
“So you’re the new night guard, huh?” Luke asked her, blue eyes twinkling as he swung one of the museum’s lightsabers at a column. He’d maintained that it was important to practice fighting at all times, and over the years at the museum he’d been steadily teaching the others who lived within its walls how to use the weapons adorning them.
“Yeah, I am,” she replied, “So you’re Luke Skywalker, huh?”
They shared a laugh that Poe was quick to join in on, “You know, Luke, if you’ve got time we should really show our new night guard how to use these. The flashlight isn't the greatest weapon against someone like Kylo Ren or Vader.”
“Use them? They’re just…” The lightsabers that the museum had on the walls were by day just odd looking blades that could light up in different colors when one pressed the button on the sides, but by night… The saber’s beam more closely resembled that of the paintings and images that adorned the walls of the old sith and jedi when they engaged in battle, but it still did not scorch the walls the way Rey thought it would.
Luke, as if reading her thoughts, moved his blade so that he poked her with the end of it, “It’s a projection,” he explained, as a mild stinging sensation ruptured from where his blade made contact with the slightly exposed skin of her collarbone, “I’m not sure how it works, but it’s a small sort of electric field that lets the blade become corporeal, but it’s not a kyber crystal. It can’t do what the lightsabers from our galaxy could.”
“What happened to your galaxy?” Rey wondered aloud as Luke pulled his blade away, and extinguished it, the blade returning to its normal appearance of just glass and steel.
He and Poe exchanged a look, then shook their heads, “No one knows,” he replied, “They’ve never found evidence of what happened in the final year before the Falcon took off from our galaxy. It’s been impossible to figure out why we’re here.”
“We’ve had fun speculating about it over the years.” Poe crossed in front of her, and leaned up against the column that Luke had been training on for the past ten minutes, “I’ve always thought if we could figure out who managed to pilot the Falcon all the way out here, we’d know what happened. Whoever piloted that ship—assuming they remembered it—would know everything.”
“Han likes to think it’s him,” Luke said with a hint of a smirk on his features, “He thinks no one else would’ve managed to pilot the Falcon that far out but him."
“Only a Solo would be able to fly the Falcon properly, Luke,” a familiar voice replied from behind her, and Rey turned around to see Han staring at his friend with his arms crossed smugly over his chest, “Both my older self and I agree. Apparently I’ve flown it for more than thirty years. It had to be me.”
“You would agree with yourself, wouldn’t you?”
“You know who I think it was? Me,” Poe interjected, “I’m the best pilot in the resistance, and by the time the Falcon left the galaxy, you would’ve been in your seventies, Han. I doubt it was you.”
“Kid, I could’ve been centuries old, and I still would’ve been the best pilot of that damn ship.”
“Then why’d you crash?” Luke replied, causing Han to ruffle his hair teasingly as he pulled him into a half nelson.
Rey laughed wholeheartedly, living for the hilarious banter the men were engaging in. Bonding with the citizens of her museum was surprisingly easy, and she found herself feeling like she’d known them for years as the hours passed, and they grew closer.
She and Poe left the hallway a few minutes later with the promise that she’d return to Luke the next night to begin the lightsaber lessons she’d no doubt have to take to survive her tenure at the museum.
“Wow, we only have an hour until sunrise,” Poe said, looking around the hall as they headed back up the stairs toward the resistance’s floor, where his display was located.
“Are you serious?” Rey asked, checking the time on her phone. It was indeed already half past five, and the sun was set to rise at half past six. The clock on her phone ticked to five thirty one, and she sighed, “So what happens when the sun rises?”
“We all head back to our spots,” Poe replied, then he sighed, “It’s like an urge you get in your head, and it’s the only thing you can think about, so you do it. Hardly any of us can resist it, but when we’ve been able to, I’ll tell you, it’s caused the night guards some grief over the years.”
“Have you ever tried to go outside of the museum?”
“We can, yeah, but we have to be back by sunrise or…”
“What happens?”
“We turn to dust.”
“Dust?”
“Dust.”
An image of the man standing before her came to mind, standing outside on one of the many Peachtree streets the city held dear as the sun illuminated his face, and he slowly crumbled into just a lump of brown dust. No other trace would be left behind that he’d ever been a man at all, not that he’d even been a man in the first place.
He was made of wax. They were all made of wax, and yet the way she’d struck up a friendship with him that night made her feel like they were real. At some point in time, she realized, they had indeed been real, but all of these people were long dead, and it felt almost like she was talking with ghosts.
“I’d best get talking to the general before the sunrise,” Poe said suddenly, looking over at where the resistance members were scattered throughout the hallway, various conversations overlapping in her ears, “You should go make the rounds, the instruction manual will tell you what to do.”
“You’re leaving?” Rey asked, uncomfortable at the thought of once again being in the museum without a guide.
Poe patted her upper arm, “Don’t worry, the sun rises in less than an hour, I don’t think anyone will give you trouble this late at night, but… Keep watch just in case.”
“I’m the night guard, I think that’s in the job description.” They exchanged another round of laughter, then Poe bid her good day, and she retrieved the instruction manual from her pocket.
The rounds she had to make were simple. She had to go back up to the fourth floor, and make sure the doors were once again locked and Snoke wasn’t out and about wreaking havoc on the museum. Then she’d check the floors one by one to make sure all patrons were at least in the general area of where they needed to be when the sun finally did come up in fifty five minutes. Once that was done, she could return to her desk, and clock out before heading home for the day.
She set to work on returning to the fourth floor, one of the two first order floors Poe hadn’t elected to show her. He’d told her it was because she shouldn’t head up there without any proper training first, which seemed like sound logic, but she was heading up there anyway--however brief her stay would be. She walked into the elevator, and stepped out into the hall, looking back and forth to make sure there was no one there to ambush her.
Seeing no one, her shoulders relaxed some, but she still gripped her flashlight firmly in her hand, prepared to use it as a weapon to fend off any first order or empire fighter who decided to mess with her as she made his brief trip on her rounds. No one came at her as she approached the sinister looking doors that led to the fifth floor, which were mercifully still locked. No one came at her as she walked away and headed back down the corridor to the stairs.
It was only when she rounded the corner to the hallway that the stairs were on that she finally stumbled upon a group of six, wicked looking masked figures all wearing black. At the center of them all was the man who’d been talked up as the most evil figure beneath the fifth floor, Kylo Ren, standing menacingly before her with his lightsaber drawn, its red color spilling out not only from the blade, but from the hilt, sticking out from the sides of the blade in a rather peculiar way. She froze as his gaze landed on her. She couldn’t see his eyes beneath the helmet he wore, but she knew he and the other masked figures—hadn’t Larry and Poe referred to them as the knights of Ren— leered at her from behind their masks.
She swallowed nervously, knowing at some point this standoff would have to be broken. They only had forty five minutes left until sunrise now, the sky outside had already started to turn from black into a dim gray. One way or another, this would end, but she desperately hoped it would do so before the sun rose. She didn’t fancy sitting in that one spot for forty five more minutes.
Tightening her grip on her flashlight, Rey cleared her throat, “Let me pass,” she ordered them, “I’m just making the rounds…”
“Who are you?” the man—Kylo, she reminded herself—at the center asked in a distorted voice, his head cocked slightly to the side as he peered at her curiously. He took a step toward her, and she took one back.
“I asked you to move,” Rey told him firmly, trying not to let fear make its way into her voice as his sinister presence filled her mind with what she could almost describe as terror.
Kylo Ren, it appeared, could see right through her and they’d only just met, “And I asked you a question,” he replied, and she swore she could see a smirk behind that mask as he stepped even closer to her, his knights hanging back as he approached, his saber held loosely at his side.
The closer he got, the more she observed how ridiculously tall he was. She wasn’t exactly short, she stood at a solid five foot seven, and was taller than most of the friends she’d had in college, but he was more than half a foot taller than she was at least. His height combined with his broad frame made him rather intimidating, but she’d learned a lesson from the last time she’d taken a step back, and she stood her ground. Rey raised the flashlight in her hand, and prepared to strike him with the butt end of it as he got closer, “Please, just let me get past, I’ve got rounds to make. I don’t have time for this.”
“You have time to answer my question. It’s simple. Who are you?”
She looked at him for a moment, not trusting him for a second, but as far as she knew, telling him who she was was the only way she’d be allowed to move on from this confrontation. “I’m Rey, I’m the new night guard.” She pointed to the patch on the side of her blazer, and realization dawned on Kylo Ren as he took a step back.
Kylo was silent for a moment, then he switched off his lightsaber, and he put the damn thing into its proper position on his belt as he looked at her. “What happened to Sebastian?”
She shook her head, “I don’t know, he got fired.” It was true, she didn’t know. She didn’t even know if or how this “Sebastian,” that the stormtroopers, Poe, and now Kylo Ren were talking about got fired. All she knew was that this job position had opened up, and she was now filling the role. “Now would you please let me pass? I’ll use this.” She held the flashlight up pointedly now, “I don’t know how effective it’ll be, but I’ll use it.”
He still didn’t move, he had a stubbornness about him that she was growing fast to dislike, and she knew she was going to make it her mission to avoid the god damned fourth floor as much as she possibly could after this. “You want to hurt me,” he stated plainly after a few seconds of silence.
She scoffed, “That tends to happen when you’re being hunted by a creature in a mask.”
Kylo stopped moving for a moment, considering her before he took a step back, and his hands reached up. A button was pressed, and there was a faint hissing noise as the mouthpiece of his helmet moved, then at long last he removed it.
To say that he was not at all what Rey had been expecting would be an understatement. She’d been expecting an intimidating looking face with maybe some scars or an older man with years of experience showing on his features. She’d expected the sort of man who looked like he spent his days ruthlessly beating people, like he’d been born to kill and intimidate. A man who was bald or had a buzz cut like most men of his sort did, but when the mask came off she was surprised by a youthful, unconventionally attractive face, and a full head of thick, wavy, and dark hair that barely brushed his shoulders.
She blinked her surprise away as she looked at him, peering into a pair of brown eyes that stared into her like he was seeing her very soul, “Satisfied?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from a voice that was still rather deep, but less menacing than the one that had been distorted by his mask.
A glare was thrown his way as any trace of initial—admittedly somewhat pleasant—shock at his appearance wore off, and the loathing returned, “Very,” she said sarcastically, “Now will you finally move? I don’t have time for this. You’ve only got…” she looked down at her phone, “Thirty eight minutes until the sun rises.”
At long last, Kylo stepped to the side, gesturing for his knights to do the same a second later, clearing the path to the stairs for her. She glared at him one last time, then she moved past him, shoving her shoulder against his as she moved to let him know how ticked off she was. A mere ten feet into her angry march down the corridor, however, Kylo called after her, “If you’re the night guard, I’m assuming they’ve told you that you need to learn how to fight.”
Rey slowed to a stop, and looked over her shoulder at him just after she passed the knights, “Yes, they did. Luke’s going to teach me how to wield a saber tomorrow night.”
Kylo quirked an eyebrow, “Luke, huh?”
“Yes, Luke.”
“The farm boy?”
“He’s a Jedi, not a farm boy.”
“He used to be a farm boy, you’re the night guard, you should know our histories.”
“It’s my first night, and I’m ending this conversation now,” she told him, turning around to resume her angry walk to the stairs, “Don’t plan on speaking to me again.”
Before she could move, however, he called out to her again, “What if I offered to teach you instead?” he asked, and she froze in place, wondering if she’d heard him right. His footsteps sounded behind her, and once again he was in front of her, the malice in his eyes no longer feeling like it was burning into her, “I could show you just as much as he could, if not more.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I am.”
“I can’t trust you,” she said, “I learned all about you today, I know who you are, what you’ve done. Why would I ever train with you?”
A hint of the menace returned to Kylo’s eyes, but he said nothing, looking as though he’d suddenly heard something calling out to him as his head swerved in the opposite direction, looking back down the hallway they’d come down. He sighed, then he turned back to her, “Our time has run out… I’ll see you tomorrow night.” With that, he turned away, and put his helmet back on as he stalked down the halls, the knights following soon after, leaving a stunned Rey standing there as they moved in a rush of black fabric.
“Don’t count on it,” she muttered bitterly once they were out of earshot, then she rushed back towards the stairwell, and worked to finish up her rounds.
No other floor gave her trouble. Everyone else was working to get back into position, and she gave friendly waves to the people she’d spent the night bonding with, wondering how she hadn’t collapsed from exhaustion yet. With fifteen minutes before sunrise, she finished the rounds. The only one out of place was BB-8, who was waiting for her by the elevator, and she gave him a smile and a pat on the head before she summoned it, and they headed back down to the lobby together.
The droid sprang from the elevator and rushed toward its little platform, driving up the ramp with a sort of glee that brought another smile to her face as she sat down in the chair behind the desk. She watched the droid come to a stop, and it beeped politely at her before assuming the position it had been in at the beginning of the night. Once the droid fell silent, Rey realized how truly exhausted she was. She’d risen fairly early that morning and then subsequently stayed up all night. It would be another hour before she was back in her apartment, the commute alone taking up forty five of those minutes once the sun rose.
She looked at her phone’s clock again. It was twenty minutes past six, she had a mere ten minutes before she would finally be able to clock out, and the janitor that cleaned up the museum in the mornings would begin his work. She yawned as she leaned back in the chair, and thought through the night that was undoubtedly the most insane one of her entire life.
That night, she’d witnessed the impossible. A museum had come to life. It was like something out of a science fiction film, or some sort of novel. It was absolutely surreal, and yet it was wonderful. The interactions she’d had with the museum’s inhabitants had made her feel less lonely than she had in months.
She’d had friends, sure, but they’d all gone off to graduate school immediately on their parents’ money. She’d been raised in the foster care system and promptly emancipated herself when she was eighteen. She’d paid for college on scholarships and scholarships alone, racking up a hefty amount of debt as well that she was still paying off. She would have to work for years to afford to continue her education.
And yet all she’d witnessed that night had her questioning everything. She’d had conversations with people she’d never actually meet who had been dead for decades if not centuries, and she’d bonded with them like they were old friends. All they were was ghosts, very lifelike, corporeal ghosts that came out at night to haunt a place they’d never even lived in much less died in.
Suddenly a yellow light filtered into the domed glass ceiling overhead, and Rey looked up to find herself blinded by the sunlight. It was six thirty, her shift was over. Shaking herself from her thoughts, she quickly gathered her things from beneath the desk, relieved that none of the museum’s inhabitants had touched her stuff, and she walked into Larry’s office to clock out. Her first night at the museum had officially come to a close.