It Was Where Technology Went To Rust.

Where bulges of ships and fighters had crumbled into the mountains of sand and dust. War after war with a new shape and design. Endless rows and piles of ruined machines.

Mountains of metal, oceans of plasticine derivates, cliffs of splayed ceramics were jumbled into a lost forever. Industrial badlands that no one ver dared to enter, those that were in fear of being poisoned or cut. But a lonely tall and dark figure searched through the ruins.

The figure held a small torch in his hand, pointing at the small open holes of fresh metal.clad in protective googles with dark lenses, black scarf covering his head and mouth. Burdened with substantial backpack, and a multifunction staff tethered to his back.

The blue light of the torch reflecting off the dark metal. His ragged breaths from underneath the black cloth around his mouth. Cautiously stepping over fallen pits of metal and debris around him as his fingers dug into a rusted circuit board

The great hulk of a shell from a former Star Destroyer where no one dared to go, but for an opportunist like Ammon, he knew he could find some salvageable material. Avoiding sharp objects as he pulled one last piece of metal from out of the wall.  The thick round piece of metal slotted into his satchel as he exited his way out of the destroyer.

He shoved his googles off his face as the dry air of Jakku hit his face. The feeling of the sand on his boots, floating away in the air. There was a freshness to the young man's face against the harsh landscapes of the Sandy planet. He was in his early twenties, with raven hair, greenish blue eyes. 

His eyes hovered over to a small shuttle sitting on the top of a Star destroyer. A tall lanky droid awaiting him, carrying some supplies in a net. Trudging his way through the sand, only to be greeted by the pessimistic droid.

The tall, lanky droid hovered an empty sack that should've been filled with equipment. Dots decorated the droids face, only the white pair of dots were considered his eyes. Rusty and ancient just like all the ships scattered among them.

"Sir, if you want food for the day at least put a spring in your step," the droid instructed him, "Just because you go back on the spaceport early doesn't mean you get to take the slowest amount of time."

"I'll try better next time, CB," Ammon rolled his eyes, climbing aboard the ship.

Ammon's hands were gripped tightly against his knotted bag of spare parts as he waited in line. The confinements of the large Niima Spaceport were scattered with a variety of species, all in need of food. All had the same job and wouldn't dare to lose anything that could be useful.

Anybody could get easily lost in the dark corridors and several outposts onboard the ship. The wall protected by a wall a forcefield, separating them from being suffocated. There weren't many spaceports like Niima, hopefully there weren't many.

Ammon caught himself looking at a small human child and its mother, clad in wrappings of dark shades of red maroon. Watching as the woman lovingly stroked the little kids hair. His heart took a twinge of pain at the loving gesture the woman had given her child.

Something that Ammon never had or at least could remember was a family. He couldn't pinpoint a time farther back than nine years of his life, somewhere it had been wasted. Memories only recalling to when he had first begun to scavenge and survey for valuable parts.

Though he could still recall a small little girl of dark luscious hair calling his name. At least a few years younger than him, but he convinced himself it was nothing but a figment of his Imagination.

"Move!" A bulky alien shoves him forward in line. The cloth of his bag almost slipping out of grasp as his feet dragged him to stand straight back up. Not to mention how impolite everyone on those station seemed.

Every scavenger eager to get their share of food that they earned. Portions that had been salvaged from the rusting ships down in the planet. Trading being the only way everyone could even make a good enough profit. 

This exact space station where Unkar Plutt claimed CB-34 was nothing but an ancient piece of junk. The simple technology of a few hundred years ago. But Ammon had told himself that the droid maybe more useful than just being garbage.

Just before CB-34 would be sold, he had grabbed the droid from the line. From which them he learned not to bother the old, pessimistic droid, who would babble all about the dozens of wars he'd seen. This just gave Ammon enough knowledge to know a life outside. 

Never had he studied maps, so when he thought of escaping the Niima Spaceport, he realized he didn't even know which planet was which. He knew exactly how to drive a ship, but was never quite the expert on navigation.

Ammons eyes darted up to meet the lumpish figure of Plutt. Thick, fleshy brownish skin that slightly bobbed when he moved around with even one piece of flesh creating almost a separate neck. Muscles hidden underneath all of the aliens blubber.

Knowing how well Plutt looked forward to their occasional encounters, wanting to always extend them more than he even liked, Ammon immediately pulled every piece of metal from his bag. Placing them cautiously on the counter one at a time. 

Then, Unkar would take his pretty little time, examining the pieces of equipment and metal Ammon had found. Never knowing if the alien was always trying to annoy him and make him lose his temper. A few moments surpassed before he acknowledged the young man.

"Ammon. A decent offering as always, nothing to new. Today, you get a quarter portion."

Ammon almost let a protest slip from his mouth, immediately holding back at his spit of hope towards Unkar. He wouldn't give him even a look of his disappointment as he took the pair of plastic pockets.

"That's my boy," Unkar's baritone sounding mockingly.

Not uttering a single word as he turned to leave, not showing how much Unkar's presence disgusted him. As he began to wander the crowded hallways of the spaceport to sleeping quarters, he dreaded meeting the alien again.

.......................

Ammon had pulled out a steel pan, heating it over a small fire from a spout. Dumping the packet of green dust, which began sizzling the moment it hit the pan. His lungs filled with the heavenly scent of food.

His sleeping quarters wasn't much. Just a simple view of Jakku and the Star Destroyers, a small bed tucked into the corner of the room, and the kitchen with a table for two set up a little more than a few feet away.

The small and quaint little room suited him just perfectly fine. He had no family he reminded himself, that would just make things crowded. But at least then he would have some love and someone to laugh with about jokes.

Finding himself absentmindedly waiting for the small piece of bread to warm up. The vegetables had already been dished up onto his plate as the green biscuit began to form. Greedily, in an act of hunger, he immediately dished the biscuit of onto his plate.

Stuffing the food into his mouth like a starving child, though he'd never had quite the lavish meals of what royals had. One's family's had. So he wouldn't waste a crumb, he'd have to savor the taste.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his door sliding open. The clanking of metal against metal, the dragging of a ragged bag. CB-34 was back with supplies for their own needs, something they'd been sneakily doing for a while.

Then, he heard a whirl of beeps from the bag, sounding unlike CB-34's voice, "CB?!? What's in the bag?" Setting his plate down, walking over to the tall droid.

"I think something that will be quite useful to us, sir," CB-34 answered before tearing open the bag. The bag rolled out to reveal a round droid, swirling around. Beeping, angrily and frantically at Ammon.

The little droid's body white a rolling sphere that thumped against the metal everytime it moved. An antenna bent on top of its head. Everything seemingly functioning, the bright coat of orange and white, practically made Ammon gasp.

His mind grew clouded with thoughts about what Unkar would think in the afternoon when he brought the droid to him. The many food packets he stalk up on, he wouldn't have to look Unkar in the eyes for a bit. No more disgusting alien.

"What the...." Ammon trailed off, confounded by CB-34's discovery, carefully unbending the droids antenna , "He's in perfect shape. Almost like he's.....brand new. What's your name little fella?"

"The droid constantly has spoken and rambled about being BB-8 and having to find his master. Not only mentioning he needed to go back home, but he wouldn't tell me, saying it's classified."

Ammon bit his lip, a bit perplexed the droid had a master. Anyone could be searching for him, he'd be selling someone's robotic companion. Shoving all his foolish desires away as he inspected the droid.

"Classified? Me too. My names, Ammon. Nice to meet you," Ammon tried to make small talk.

The droid beeped something that completely shattered Ammin's heart, but CB-34 was quick to respond for him, "Master Ammon does not have a last name. He has lived here most of his life, and some of those years with me."

The droids head hung low at the news, "Hey, it's okay. They're out there somewhere......I can only hope they are."

"Hey!" A woman's voiced suddenly echoed in the room, the three turning their heads to look at the opened door. A woman dressed in all white, dusted with a fading shade of sand. Locks and strands of blonde hair had found its way into her chest. She looked young, like she'd just turned twenty not to long ago.

In her hand she carried a staff, gripping it tightly as slight anger flashed in her eyes. A flame igniting inside her as she looked at the know fearful tall droid and human. While BB-8 beeped at her like she was his hero.

"Hands off my droid!" 

Quickly, she moved towards Ammon, not even caring to notice the others. Her gaze set on the human being how had stolen Poe's droid. But she had to remind herself that BB-8 was one smart droid.

"Okay! Hold on!" Ammon immediately stood up before she had her staff at his throat. His hand slowly raising up to the level of his head in a surrender. BB-8's triumphant beeping hadn't stopped just yet.

"Where did you find him?" The woman practically hissed in his face.

"He was somewhere in Jakku, how am I supposed to know when my droid found him."

"What droid?" The woman asked.

"Droid? Droid?!? Master I find it highly rude that you just announce me like my name is droid!!!" CB-34 spoke up, sending the woman to hold back her surprise.

"CB?"

"You know him?" Ammon asked, completely taken aback by this revelation.

"I know you?" CB-34 stared at the woman, who looked as though she might let a tear slip.

"My father.....he must've made you not remember anything. You don't even remember me? Not even Kyla? Ben? Zale? Me....Jynne?"

The woman looked utterly broken by seeing CB-34. She had to grip her staff slightly more just to make herself seem unaffected. But that time had given Ammon to get a good look at her staff.

Circular nooks decorated the ends as thin metal stretched across. A red button on the very middle which puzzled Ammon, greatly. Why would somebody place a button in the middle of their staff.

"Let's go, BB-8. The First Orders could be on our tail any minute now. We need to get out of here," The woman who called herself Jynne told BB-8 as she lowered her staff.

"No! Wait!" Ammon grabbed the need of her staff to make her face him.

"You better be careful where you're holding," Jynne remarked, looking at him like he was an idiot.

"You said the First Order is on your tail?"

"Correct."

"And that means they'd want to track the ship you used by any means and track you back here, not to mention many civilians will lose their lives."

"That was intentionally my plan, but not on the civilian part-"

"What if I said I could help you?"

CB-34's head turned towards Ammon, and if the droid had a face, he'd be showing the most shock ever. Jynne crosse her arms over her chest, still ready to use her staff if she had to. Seemingly, intrigued by Ammon's words.

Ammon knew he was calling a bluff, but that didn't mean half of it wasn't true. He knew that the ships docking bay, one of them might get them all out. All far away from Jakku, maybe even to a new planet, maybe one with a tree.

"Go on," Jynne responded.

"I can sneak you off this ship without it triggering any First Order tracking devices. But you can't just kick me off the shin when you do so, I would've been your only witness and could tell anyone where you went, Jynne."

Jynne thought for a moment, finding the young man's words intriguing by the second. He put up a fine bargain and one that had no flaws or mistakes. So she took her hand out, placing it in his.

"It's a deal then...."

"Ammon." 

"Well, Ammon. You've got to live up to your end of the deal."