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the-force-awakens · 2 years

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Two Birds, One Stone

Pairing: poe dameron/f!reader (no pronouns) Rating: explicit Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: smut (18+ only): fingering, oral (m receiving) unprotected piv, alcohol consumption (both parties are sober tho), friends to lovers, one night stand (or is it?) A/N: I have no idea why this concept burrowed into my head the way it did or how I ended up almost writing 5k of it but??? here we are.

You glance around the rec room - Snap and Karé making eyes at each other in the corner, Tallie and Paige already making out at another table - then back at Poe who is staring studiously ahead following his unintentional slip up that he's frustrated in a very particular kind of way, and wraps his lips around the bottle of coruscant cooler he bribed Yolo for.

And it's gotta be the sip you've taken of your drink that makes you blurt, out of the blue, "There's me.”

His entire frame goes carefully rigid, enough so that you almost want to take the words back — almost but not quite. Poe lowers his drink slowly, casting you a skeptical look. "What?”

You shift slightly, giving him a casual shrug. "I said there's me. I'm not under your command, no reason for you to feel guilty. And -” despite the brazen nature of your suggestion, you feel warmth climb up your neck to your face - "it's been a while for me too. Two birds, one stone. Well - one dick, I guess.”

His eyebrows had nearly shot up to his hairline, but they lower now, something shifting in his expression as he studies yours. "You're serious?”

At this, you can't help but feel a little offended and you don't bother disguising that as you reply, "No, I just decided to screw with you about screwing you - yes, I'm being serious.”

He snorts at that, pushes away his bottle and turns in his seat, looking around the room before his gaze lands back on yours, a gentle heat building in his eyes that makes you falter and wonder if you've made a terrible mistake in suggesting this. "You know how many people we're going to hear an 'I told you so' from if they find out?”

You grin, leaning forward and daring to place your hand high on his thigh, enough that Poe's breath audibly hitches. “Do you really care what they have to say if it means getting off tonight?”

"I - uh - nope," he lands on empathically, popping the 'p' as he slides off his bar stool, offering you his hand to help you down off yours. It's sweet and he's done it a million times - but now it makes your heart trip over itself. "You sure about this?”

You are, in the sense that you know you want this. But what you're not so sure about is if it's a good idea, when his sheepish smile and crinkled eyes alone give you butterflies. Knowing his body intimately like you've suggested seems like playing with fire.

"Yeah. You?” Because he hasn't actually said yet, though you know he wouldn't have budged if he hadn't made his mind up already - if it wasn't a yes, he'd still be at the bar.

"Surer than I've ever been," Poe replies with a crooked grin, squeezing your hand slightly and - yeah. This was a really fucking bad idea.

But you also really don't care.

You wonder if Poe can feel you watching him the entire walk back to his quarters. Nothing about the trek back seems significant yet at the same time incredibly surreal: you know where he keeps his flimsiplast blueprints of classic starfighter models hidden away for safe keeping, the name of that really naughty erotic romance novel he secretly loves even though the ending made him cry, you've curled up in his bed watching horror movies while he used you as a human shield and peering at the screen from behind your shoulder (which you found particularly endearing, considering how daring he is in every other facet of life, and also because it warms you from the inside out that he trusts you to protect him).

And now you're going to know what it's like to have him spread out against his mattress, flushed and panting underneath you. The thought sends desire zipping down your back so intense that for the first time since leaving the rec room, you drop your eyes away from Poe - something like guilt surfacing over the thick wave of arousal at the fantasy you've conjured. Is it really wrong to think about it when it's about to be a reality?

You're yanked out of your thoughts by the soft beeps of Poe punching in the code to his room - Leia's birthday - and the pneumatic hiss of the door sliding open. His smile is genuine and earnest as he motions you to go in first.

It's surprisingly clean, cleaner than it'd been the night before last when you'd unceremoniously dropped onto his bed complaining about Laszlo being a dick during your shift (though there was never a time when he wasn't a dick) — so you assume Poe must've found the time and energy to tidy this morning before his patrol, or BB-8 did. Speaking of which -

“Where's Bee?” You ask as Poe steps in after you, the door sliding close behind him. Though you don't turn around, you sense him moving closer - slowly, like he's either trying to work out his next move or if he's not sure when you're supposed to begin.

"He wanted to spend some time with the astromech pool,” Poe answers, giving in and lightly dragging his knuckles down the length of your bare arm, leaving gooseflesh in his wake. "Probably won't be back until later.”

"Lucky,” you breathe, heart rate picking up already because he's never touched you like this before. You were used to being touched by him because Poe was incredibly tactile and affectionate, but those had all been fleeting because despite his touchy nature, Poe didn't linger.

He's lingering now, though, stepping close enough you can nearly feel his chest against your back. He flexes his hand out, lets his palm slide back up as he replies, "Yeah, luck seems to be going around tonight.”

Ordinarily you'd have rolled your eyes - hell, the temptation to do it is so instinct you nearly do, but it's overpowered by how the sincerity of his voice makes you melt.

And melting is really not ideal. Neither is the way your traitorous knees already want to buckle just from this, from his close proximity that's still nowhere near close enough to sate you — either of you, really.

You turn slowly around, breath catching low in your chest as you finally get a glimpse of Poe's face, of the unmasked want darkening his features and his eyes, which unabashedly rake over your frame like he's been waiting for permission to do so for a while.

The thought that maybe he wants you almost as bad as you want him makes you clench your thighs together, and soothes some of the sting of the thought simmering in the back of your head which is that you want more than one night of this.

No, that's not quite it either.

You want this, you want - need - to know what it's like to have him inside you, to hear him moan your name, watch him unravel; you wouldn't take back your offer now and you're sure as hell not going to regret it later, not when Poe is looking down promisingly at you like that.

You want him in every single way you can have a person and it terrifies you because you've never felt like that for anyone — because sex has always just been a bit of fun for you, a way to stop thinking, to feel good.

But it already feels like so much more than that right now. You feel like by inviting yourself into his bed, you've cracked open your ribcage so that all the love you've been hiding can spill out.

"Can I kiss you?” Poe asks, deadly serious as he zeroes in on your mouth, before flicking up to meet your eyes - searching for any sign of hesitance.

"Please.” It comes out breathier and a little more desperate than you meant for, but you don't think you can wait any longer. And it seems like Poe's patience has run out as well, because he surges forward, pulling you flush against him as he cups your face, kisses you hard.

You open your mouth to him, groan when he slides his tongue in, when his blazing hot hand meets bare skin as your shirt lifts up when you go to wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer, your other hand sliding up his stubbled jaw — it prickles against your palm and you moan again, thinking of what it'd feel like against your thighs.

Poe nudges you forward, keeping you steady as he walks you backwards to his bunk - like you don't already have the layout to his room memorized, you're in it more than your own - and you're struck with three simultaneous realizations at once:

Poe Dameron was as good at kissing as he was flying

You probably could have done this without kissing him at all, kept this impersonal, kept some line in the sand of your relationship with him

You were about to have sex with your best friend.

And some-fucking-how the least terrifying on the list was the third one.

You break apart from each other slowly, exchanging a weighted look that's filled to the brim of unsaid things and emotions clawing their way to the surface like a drowning man desperate for air; Poe's cheeks are already flushed and when he shifts closer, you feel his hard length pressing against the seam of his trousers.

Taking a step back from him, you toe off your boots, immediately knocking them aside and out of the way with your ankle as Poe kicks his off. As he shucks his jacket off, you peel your shirt up and over your head — and are immediately rewarded with the sound of Poe inhaling sharply because you didn't wear a bra tonight.

You don't normally, the weight of the straps often giving you migraines, so you usually opt for tank tops underneath: you hadn't worn one tonight, hadn't made an effort to be remotely put together because your plans had involved having a drink with Poe and then crashing for the night after such a long day - which, technically speaking, nothing about that has changed.

You sit down on the edge of the mattress, which is a bad idea because it puts you at eye-level where his trousers are tented. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you're reaching for him, undoing his belt with nimble fingers.

"What are you - oh fuck -” Poe sucks in a sharp breath as you yank down his trousers and underwear in one quick motion, revealing his thick cock. It's curved up, towards his tummy, and already leaking precum.

You pull him closer, fingernails digging probably too harshly into his thighs. You glance up at him under your eyelashes, find him staring at you with dark, frantic eyes as his chest heaves. He's already unraveling and you've barely begun. The thought does very little to help the gathering dampness in your underwear, but it sure motivates you into returning your focus to the task at hand.

You don't immediately go for his dick though - instead you lean in, pressing your nose against the soft skin of his thigh, ghosting your lips across it and you're struck with the exigent need to mark him. Which shouldn't be on the table, it shouldn't. But the thought of leaving behind evidence of tonight on his body, one that he won't be able to ignore, that will remain for a day or two and that he'll have to look at in the shower or when he dresses or (hopefully) when he gets himself off — makes something thrash in self-satisfaction behind your ribcage.

Something that's immediately replaced with a wave of disappointment: you don't have any claim on him, even if you know him better than anyone else in the galaxy. Even if you're a little bit hopelessly in love with him.

So instead of pinching his skin between your teeth, you move further up to his neglected cock and lick a long, slow swipe up the underside of his shaft, which makes Poe gasp roughly, his head tipping back and exposing his throat.

Scratch that. You're completely and utterly gone for your best friend, no ‘little bit’ about it. Which, again, is not ideal so you shove the thought away angrily and take it out on Poe by swallowing him down.

What you can't take in your mouth, you wrap your fist around, jerking him off at the same time that you savor the weight and taste of him on your tongue, every groan and whimper that falls from his lips.

It doesn't feel like it's been long at all when his hips buck harshly into your mouth and you hear him swear, bitten off. He grabs your hair, pulling you off abruptly, his breathing erratic as he releases his grip on you, rubbing your skull apologetically with his thumb. "Not gonna last if you keep that up, maker fuck, you're good at that.”

"Oh, did you underestimate how good I'd be?” You retort, scooting backwards on the bed when Poe gestures for you to, giving him room to crawl in after you.

"No.” It's a surprisingly clipped answer, and there's a weight to it that gives you pause, trying to search his shadowed face for a deeper meaning because for once in his life, Poe isn't saying something.

But before you can ask another question, he's ducking in to kiss you again, slowly as he settles over you, gently pushing until you're supine on your back, his body covering yours as he braces himself on his elbow so as to keep his full weight off you (not that you'd really mind), while letting his hand slide down to your neck, his thumb settling in at the dip of your throat and maker fuck that shouldn't feel so good.

He wedges one thigh between your legs, grinding up and you nearly choke, whining his name against his lips - which has the delightful side effect of making Poe groan, bucking against you before having the audacity to pull his thigh back away from your core.

He tears his mouth away from yours, the hand that was around your throat sliding down your bare torso, stopping to thumb the underside of your nipple which has you arching up into his touch carelessly, eyelids fluttering shut so you miss his brief, pleased smile before he works his hand between your bodies.

Poe pushes aside your underwear, dipping one finger inside you to the knuckle, making you both moan. "Gods, you're wet,” he sounds like he can't believe it, even though you can both hear the slickness as he drags his finger slowly around. "All this just from getting me off, baby?”

The endearment falls off his lips easily and without thought but it makes you clench down around him subconsciously as your mind grapples with the fact that this is actually happening, that his calloused finger is pressing up against your slick walls.

The realization thuds around your brain like an echoing drum, intensifying when he slides another finger in. The stretch is slow, stings a little because it's been a while since anyone's fingers but yours were down there, and Poe's are decidedly thicker.

Longer too, evidently, because he's reaching a place that has sparks appearing behind your eyes, something sharp, full and hot building low in your stomach. You rock into his hand, nodding wordlessly as you try to chase your own high. "All for you," you hear yourself say, high-pitched and barely familiar to your own ears.

“All for - gods,” his voice breaks down into something nonsensical as his fingers slide deeper inside, grinding against your walls and crooking back towards himself in a way that leaves the entire world muffled around you, your mouth dropping when he leans back on his knees, using his other hand to give attention to your neglected clit. "All for me," he murmurs again, incredulous while you whine and squirm, openly admiring your wrecked expression. "You gonna come for me, too?”

The combination of being stuffed full of his fingers, his clever ministrations against your clit and his makerdamned voice is enough to — you're not even sure what happens. You cum but it's nothing like anything that's happened before: instead of crashing over the edge and losing temporary awareness of your body, it's like you've surfaced from the deepest part of the ocean and are sucking in greedy lung-fulls of air, no longer crushed down by the unforgiving current pressure.

Your whole body is trembling when Poe slowly removes his fingers, transfixed at the sight between your legs — before his eyes trail back to his fingers, which gleam in the low light with the thick evidence of your climax. He brings them up to his mouth, sucking away the residue: his eyes roll back like they do when his taste buds go alight with something you've baked together in the kitchens, an appreciative noise rumbling up his chest and going straight to your core as he drops his hand.

He seems wrought with indecision for a moment - you can tell by the way his brow furrows, his tongue darting out to swipe along his bottom lip that he's thinking, considering his options while situated between your thighs.

You're too impatient for that: you breathe out his name, reaching for him and it breaks his reverie. He's back over you in an instant, kissing you again, parts long enough to murmur, "You taste so good.”

His praise makes you groan, and you drag him down to kiss him again, fingernails scraping his scalp - which he seems to like by the way he jerks into you with a gasp, reminding you of just how badly want him inside you.

"Poe, come on -”

"Anyone ever tell you you're impatient?” Poe asks around a grin, but he obeys anyway (which makes your brain light up with interest), and strokes himself roughly, going to line up with your entrance.

You snarf at that. “Yeah, you have - repeatedly. Last I checked you weren't any better.”

He notches the head of his cock against you and your breath stalls, grip tightening in his hair as Poe slowly sinks in another few inches.

"I'm patient about - hnngh - some things,” he says, face pinched as he unexpectedly stops. He's not even halfway in yet and already you feel unbearably full. You can't imagine what it'll be like when he's in all the way. "The important things - those I'm - fuck you're soft and -”

He makes another wordless noise of appreciation, hands gripping your thighs so tightly that you know there will be bruises there later - and, oh, how that makes your stomach corkscrew with desire.

You exhale shakily, slacken your hold on his curls, try to summon the energy to speak, to help him breathe through it — he said it's been awhile since the last time he was with anyone, after all. “What are you patient about? Not the first cup of caf, I can tell you that.”

He huffs a noise that might be a laugh, moving just that much deeper inside of you. Poe's eyes are squinched shut, eyelashes long and dark against the tips of cheekbones. “I - this - been waitin' for this - been -” his sentence fades in a shared synchronized moan between the two of you as he sinks in fully, his cock disappearing inside of you.

If it's possible to be cock drunk instantly, you wonder if you aren't now, because everything feels heady and light as you adjust to the feel of him, his words bouncing around in your head but not quite sticking. You clench around him unintentionally and Poe swears, dropping his head to your shoulder.

Belatedly, you realize he's still rambling — you open your mouth to start to interrupt, tell him he can move now, when he says, "This is so better than I imagined it'd be, you feel so good, you -”

He stops abruptly, going as carefully still as he had in the rec room, this time because he can feel you tense beneath him. Slowly, Poe lifts his head up from your shoulder, dark brown eyes flicking between yours panickedly, "It - I just - I meant -”

You press your finger to his lips, stopping him from going on another spiel and - for good measure - you let your other hand slide around the curve of his back to keep him in place, in case he gets the idea of pulling out of you following his unintentional bombshell.

"It's better than I thought it'd be too,” you tell him softly, trailing your fingertip down his kiss-swollen lips as your heart pounds. You know Poe better than anyone, better than yourself, yet there's still a seed of anxiety sprouting in the back of your mind that you're misunderstanding him, that he did just mean it's better than he thought it would be back at the bar.

You ignore it, forging ahead to confess, "I just wish it was for more than one night.”

Poe pushes up on his elbow in surprise. The sudden movement tips the angle of your hips, so that he pushes in even deeper, the tip of him hitting some sweet spot that has your stomach flipping.

It also means that his face is caught between pleasure and revelation, which is a funny mix but it just softens his countenance to the point that affection swells up your throat: you love him so much that it isn't fair.

"Doesn't have to be if you don't want it to,” Poe says, shyness creeping into his voice. It's rare, hearing that from him - you're so used to his confidence that the absence of it is so stark and surreal you nearly forget how you ended up in this conversation.

"I want every night with you, every morning. I want you. Not just like this - though, this is -” experimentally, you lift yourself up, grinding into him and making you both groan - "good, this is really fucking good. I want…want you. All of you.”

You don't realize you've closed your eyes until Poe taps you lightly on your sternum: when you blink them back open, he's smiling softer than you've ever seen him. “You have me, you've had me for a long time. Maker, I've wanted you so bad -” he laughs, rakes his free hand through his hair - "didn't expect to tell you like this though.”

And you can't help but laugh too, because everything is backwards and completely perfect too. You hitch your leg up around his hip, pressing the heel off your foot against the small of his back, opening yourself up to him. “Somehow I can't imagine it happening any other way…but do you think we could reconvene on laughing at how ridiculous we are later and get back to the fucking now?”

"Yeah, I can do that.” Poe leans back down, grinning broadly as his lips find yours, kissing you long and slow as he finally pulls out, thrusting back in with a lazy grind, letting you feel every vein and ridge of his cock drag against your walls.

"Oh - just like that - more -” you break off as Poe tilts his head, licking into your mouth, tongue slick against yours as he snakes one hand between your bodies to thumb at your clit while he continues his devastating slow pace.

Slow but hard, snapping up into you just like you want, adding just enough force at the apex of each thrust that you see stars, electricity zipping up your spine as the throbbing between your legs crests —

Your thighs tense around Poe as you come, his name a jagged noise on your tongue as you cling to him through the haze, trying to catch your breath even as Poe continues to rut into you, desperate for his own release.

He's well beyond words now, reduced to grunts and the occasional whimper, clutching your knee - rubbing the bump of bone absently with his thumb, even as he chases his own high.

Eager to help him get there, you slide your hands back into his hair like he seemed to like earlier, tugging on his curls as you lean in and knock your mouths together in a messy kiss, trying to meet his thrusts with your own, clenching weakly around him.

It's when you tug on his bottom lip that Poe finally comes, spilling inside of you for what feels simultaneously like lightyears and mere seconds, dropping his head against the curve of your neck as he lets go of your leg so you can straighten it out finally.

He doesn't pull out immediately and you're glad, gladder still when Poe wedges his arms around your back, drawing you closer - kisses your sweaty skin at your collarbone. The kind of sleepy, thoughtless affection you've been dreaming of for years.

Eventually after a while of luxuriating in the honey-like bliss that's enveloped you both as you come down from your respective highs, Poe perches his chin in the valley of your breasts, which makes the juxtaposition of his serious face all the stranger as he studies you. "I love you - is that okay?”

There's a million and one ways you've imagined him saying those three words to you, and a million and one ways you've imagined responding to them.

In this one, you knock your knee against his ribs, grinning crookedly when you reply, “Only if it's okay that I love you too,” before tugging him up to kiss his smiling mouth again - because you can.

And not just tonight. You'll get to kiss him in the morning when you wake up together, still entwined together, and again before his next patrol; you get to have him not for just one night, but for every night, as long as you both want.

You wrap your arms around him, hugging his warm body to your own as sleep begins to pull you both under, his weight a comfortable pressure against you, leaving you utterly content.

This, you decide sleepily, was single handedly the best idea you've ever had.

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron smut #myfic

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frunbuns · 2 years

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Black Squadron has just returned from a mission:

Leia: Well done. You're dismissed.

Poe: Thanks, mom.

Everyone:

Poe: Why is everyone staring at me?

Jess: You just called the General "mom". You said "thanks, mom".

Poe: What? No, I didn't! I said "thanks, man".

Leia: Do you see me as a mother figure, Dameron?

Poe: No! If anything, I see you as a bother figure 'cause you're always bothering me.

Karé: Hey, show your mother some respect!

Poe: I didn't call her "mom"!

Leia: No, no, no, no, Poe. I take it as a compliment.

Snap: It's not a big deal. I called Karé "mom" once and she's my wife.

Poe: Guys, jump on that! Snap is really weird.

Jess: Old news! But you calling General Organa "mommy"—

Poe: Hey, "mommy" is not on the table here.

Suralinda: You did call her "mom", dude.

Poe: You shut up. You're a liar. You almost exposed our location to the whole galaxy for an article!

Suralinda: Alright, alright. I was actually going to expose you for that story. I lie all the time. Everyone knows I lied about that, but the mom thing? That happened.

Poe: Aha! She admitted it! Suralinda is a liar!

Leia: I believe you—

Poe: Thank you.

Leia: —Son, do you want to talk about it over some tea?

Poe: ...I'd like that.

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hackedbyawriter · 10 months

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Chapters: 1/7

Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn, Jessika Pava/Rey, Kaydel Ko Connix/Rose Tico, qpr finnrey, Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Poe Dameron & Rey, Karé Kun/Temmin "Snap" Wexley, Past Poe Dameron/Zorii Bliss - Relationship

Characters: Finn (Star Wars), Poe Dameron, Rey (Star Wars), Rose Tico, Jessika Pava, Temmin "Snap" Wexley, Luke Skywalker

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Buzzfeed Unsolved Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Scared Poe Dameron, Believer Poe Dameron, Non-Believer Finn (Star Wars), Rey Skywalker is Neutral, Priest Luke Skywalker, Sequel Trio Needs a Hug, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied Sexual Content, however this will come much later in the fic and it will definitely be glossed over and skippable, fuck zorii bliss all my homies hate zorii bliss, if you dont know why read free fall, the writing is very silly please dont expect my usual poetic style, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Gay Poe Dameron, Bisexual Finn (Star Wars), Asexual Rey (Star Wars), Religious Imagery & Symbolism

Summary:

"Kill off all my demons and my angels might die too."

Poe Dameron, a Resistance employee, has always been fascinated by the supernatural, so under the company, he starts a show, called Unsolved, retelling supernatural events from history and visiting haunted locations with his long-time friends and co-workers Jessika Pava and Snap Wexley.

Near the end of the first season however Jess has to leave due to scheduling issues and Snap, newly married to Kare, is expecting a baby, leaving Poe with the rest of the season to film and no one to help him.

On a whim, Poe decides to ask fellow employee and family friend Rey Skywalker and her best friend Finn Storm to accompany him.

Whether it’s the best or worst decision Poe has ever made, he’s not quite sure, but it was bound to change his life forever.

Tags: @enviedear @british-strong-style @dhyanshiva @no-url-is-good-enough @foxglass0822 @the-bread-is-dead @finnpoeweek2023 @yourejealousofthisname

#finnpoe #stormpilot #star wars #poe dameron #finn #finn star wars #finn x poe #finn dameron #rebel finn #sw finn #finnpoehalloweenbingo2023

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galacticwildfire · 11 months

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Fire Meet Gasoline | Poe Dameron

Six

Poe Dameron x Solo Original Character

Hope Solo’s haunted by the night the temple burned. Having gone rogue she hunts the First Order in search of answers until a fateful encounter with Poe Dameron brings her back to the Resistance and Leia puts her daughter under his command to find Luke Skywalker.

Word count: 8.4k

Tags/warnings: the beginnings of black squadron, snap being a big brother to hope and a simp for karé, jealous hope, mother-daughter issues, slightly jealous poe if you blink, snap being a wingman, hondo pointing out daddy issues, subsequent alcohol consumption, attempted assassination, violence, descriptions of blood and wounds, interrogation gone wrong, suicide to avoid capture, skywalker bullshit over authority, fighting and angst, poe realising leia warned him for a reason, moral dilemmas, mentions of anakin's crimes alongside padme's death

All my stories are written for adults with adult themes, I use tags but read at your discretion.

A/N: okay we're getting into it now, considering this story is going to be quite a long one I typically update on ao3 and wattpad before here.

Hope

When morning comes I'm feeling decidedly more at ease about what comes next, the weight on my shoulder's having lifted slightly, but only slightly.

My relationship with Mom... that's one issue that I don't know how to fix, but this mission is something I know I can pull off. I take my time getting ready considering the Commander will likely be presenting the report to Mom before doing anything else and run my fingers along the white combat suit that's remained untouched in my wardrobe since I ran off without thinking to get it. My staple piece I'd worn since sixteen that I'd once intended to incorporate into my own style of Jedi robe, but they've remained as they've been since I'd been given them by Dormé, only to be traded for smugglers clothes that resemble my father's too much for comfort.

The tight fitting fabric's familiar beneath my fingers, holding the force signature of my grandmother since it had belonged to her first after all, tailored to meet my measurements like the duplicates that hang behind it. I never knew her, and yet her memory is one I've taken upon myself to protect. Bail and Breha's memory is protected fiercely by Mom, but I'm the only descendant of Padmé's that knows her story in its entirety. Right until the very end as I'd seen during my trip to Polis Massa so long ago in a vision. An image that still haunts me to this day and breaks my heart just as horribly.

The reminder of what Anakin Skywalker became, a chill that's remained in my bones ever since witnessing it. I can laugh about what he became and mock it to pretend I don't care whenever it comes up with Mom, but that's only because she hasn't seen what I have. She's not haunted by the visions of the slaughter he committed in the temple, the violence against his own wife.

A reminder of everything I could become as I've so frequently been reminded.

But despite the violence Darth Vader inflicted upon my mother, she's still ignorant to the violence Anakin Skywalker committed before he ever ended up behind that mask. Ever since I was twelve I'd been compared to him by those who'd known him on Naboo, even my own mother from what little she knows of Anakin Skywalker from Shmi's holo journals has found the similarities. And so I know she'd be horrified if she knew the extent of what Anakin Skywalker had committed before he ever turned.

For a long time I suppose Padme's clothes served as a reminder of that. That because of the darkside she never lived long enough to raise her own children or to pass the clothes I wear down to me by her own hand. Instead her sister and handmaidens gladly telling me they'd saved them these many years knowing someday they'd find their way into the right hands. A reminder to do right by her instead of taking after him.

It feels like a violation against her own memory to tread that path, as easy as it may feel despite knowing what waits at the end. Which is why I trade my smugglers clothes for the white jumpsuit. Exchanging the worn leather thigh holster in favour of the white embroidered in royal Naboo red with the symbol of the Rebellion, and now the Resistance.

I have a choice to make now that this Commander's extended to me an opportunity to step up and take charge in a way that isn't destructive. I have the choice of whether to continue on as I have or to try to make Mom proud. To follow by the example of the women in the family rather than the men.

And so I braid my hair back in a crown around my head, stopping to apply my eyeliner the same as usual, but a darker brown instead of black, before lacing my white boots. The platforms are certainly not regulation with the amount of extra inches they give me in height but I'm yet to have anyone try to tell me off for what I wear since they're more concerned with actual insubordination. Besides, I'd learned well how to fight in more absurd clothing.

For the first time in a long time I find myself thinking of the life I'd once had on Naboo. The life it seems everyone believes I've been living for the past year. The morning walks to the university by the side of Sola's grandaughter, a girl who was the closest I've ever had to a sister. How I hated sitting through each lesson until I could finally attend physical training. The small group of us girls who closely resembled one another, chosen and placed in the training program under the assumption we would either be elected as royalty or to serve as handmaidens. The flights with the starfighter corps even if I was suspended more often than not. The long days spent out in the lake country wearing summer dresses and floating in the water, the one place I truly felt at peace in the force.

Looking back I shouldn't have had a care in the world living in such a paradise, but I never appreciated it. It should have felt like home, but it never did without Ben and my parents. All I ever wanted to do was escape it to run to them. Little did I know how soon I'd lose what little stability I had and find myself aching for it now I have no family that I can call home. Naboo seems to be the closest thing to it I still have considering this base has never felt like home.

When I walk through its halls to the mess I'm not sure of whether to go see Mom. We haven't had a civil conversation since I arrived, and my promise to Lando weighs on my mind. Anxiousness quickly overcomes me as I enter the mess hall only to find all eyes on me and whispers following. I don't know who knows what about where I've been or what I've done, especially since so many faces are unfamiliar. Snap and Korrie know more of the truth than most, but the rest must believe I've been living in paradise while they've been working their asses off, and I can feel the disdain as I hover near the entrance looking for a half friendly face.

"Hey," a voice suddenly says and I look to see Poe come to my side, seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. "I ran the plan by Leia and she liked your input."

"She did?" I repeat in surprise, caught off guard by him let alone the fact Mom's actually approved of something I've done.

"Yeah," he says and feel his eyes quickly look me over, certainly noticing the difference in my appearance not I odn't look as if I've walked straight off Tatooine. He looks like he's about to make a comment, positive by the slightly flustered look he wears, ultimately deciding against it considering he should be trying to keep things half professional. But it's still enough to give me some satisfaction. "I was just going to get some breakfast and find you but since you're here want to grab some and take it to Leia's office so we can have her sign off on going to procure the ships you were talking about?"

"Yeah sure," I find myself saying, quite eager to get away from all the eyes on me and glance towards his face only to need to clear my throat. "I need caf."

"That makes two of us," he says with a pat on my shoulder that leaves me blinking in confusion as he goes to greet two other pilots. My eyes follow him until my heart stops momentarily at the sight of the girl only for me to shake my head with a wince. Upon second look the resemblance to Voe is less obvious, the contrast of their bronzed skin with the short blonde braids having been what made me panic, but it still leaves me feeling uneasy. It feels heartless to say I haven't thought about Voe in so long, but it's the truth.

Of the friends I had at the temple, she wasn't one of them.

Upon a third look however I feel something else at the way she laughs with Poe. It's an utterly irrational feeling but still it's there and I wonder if I wasn't that appealing to him after all, rather just another potential conquest. After all, someone who looks like him would have no trouble with that.

"Well look who's still here," I hear Snap say as he comes to stand beside me, his eyes also on the blonde woman who looks to be in her late twenties. "Back in the battle armour I see."

I look at the silver arm bands and laugh lightly. "Well it feels as if I need it with everyone staring at me."

"You do realise it's because you have a lightsaber right?" he asks and I look down at my belt, having not even registered that fact. "And every single person who's new here has never seen a lightsaber let alone a Jedi."

"Huh," I say, taking another look around and rereading the room a little differently now, reluctantly admitting. "I hadn't thought of that."

Snap's probably one of the very few people on base that knows me well, who took me under his wing when the Resistance was formed, especially after Dad left. I've never really opened up to him or anyone, but he gets that and looks out for me which is something I appreciate, especially after being gone for so long.

"Who are they?" I ask, nodding to the people Poe's speaking to as we head over to the caf machine, the one thing I'm glad for.

"Karé Kun," he says with a reverence that has me raising my eyebrows, the other man with them going utterly ignored in his eyes.

"Girlfriend?" I question and he just shakes his head to himself, his attention solely on her.

"I wish," he mumbles and I squint at him before snapping my fingers in front of his face, and he finally gets what I'm actually asking. "Oh, no, not his. Trust me, he seems to like the batshit crazy pilots and there's only two of those on base, and he's one of them."

I smile to myself a little now, realising Snap knows more than he's letting on I inquire "Is that so?"

"Oh yep," he says, shaking his head now as if something's funny. "He's an idiot, but he's a good one. He might look pretty but he's damn good at what he does, trusts the people he flies with and treats them with more respect than any commanding officer I had in the Navy that's for sure. I've done a couple missions with him over the past few months and there's no one I'd trust more to get me out of a tight spot. He's got the same ego as you that's for sure, but he's not an asshole."

I let out a short laugh. "And I am?"

"Sometimes," he admits and I can't really argue with that.

"Fair enough," I agree, almost a little bitter that my impression of him last night wasn't wrong, that he is a decent guy. But wanting to cover my ground I ask "So, does he try to ask every girl out he sees within five minutes of meeting them or am I the exception?"

Snap doesn't seem as surprised as he should be, meaning he definitely does know more than what he lets on. "Let's just say you left an impression on him in the field. I can't speak to what he was like in the Navy, but as far as his time here goes you're the exception. One thing I can say for certain is that I've never seen him like he was after he'd met you."

Snap might be his wingman, but he's also known me longer so I can trust what he's telling me. Snap wouldn't stand up for a guy he thought had bad intentions, especially not when it comes to me. I find myself strangely warmed by his assurance as I glance over towards the Commander, chatting to his friends with a smile and speaking with his hands, utterly animated and as alive as I only manage to feel in a cockpit.

Except for that moment we shared in the hangar.

"How old is he?" I ask and that's when Snap hesitates.

"Late twenties," he says and when I raise an eyebrow clarifies. "Twenty nine."

"Eh, what's that, nine years?" I dismiss, not overly caught up on that. "Not as bad as my parents."

But what does make me freeze is the realisation that I'm actually considering it, as if he hadn't blown me off right after figuring out who I was, and again I'm left with a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Speaking of which I saw Leia, she seemed like she was in a good mood," he mentions casually to reassure me as I survey the room with no sign of her. Not unusual since she spends most of her day in her office but maybe I'd hoped she'd seek me out as more than just a general. "There's a couple of younger people that have come to base while you've been gone." I take another look about the room and see a black haired girl who doesn't look much older than I am. "I helped Jess through her training, she's nice. Seem's like your type of person."

"My type of person?" I repeat as Poe comes over, more cheery than any person should be in the morning and immediately I put an extra shot of caf into my drink. After operating on my own schedule for so long it seems I'm in for a rude awakening and his presence is another unexpected variable to consider.

"Ready to go see Leia?"

"Not really but let's go," I answer reluctantly, knowing I'll probably be glad for a witness as I walk a little more slowly than necessary down the halls. He doesn't attempt small talk thankfully and gets to the mission.

"So, where are you planning on getting ships from?" he asks and I'm glad to at least have some control over things, especially since I can tell it's a conscious effort on his part to have me this involved.

"Batuu," I answer. "Worked for a guy who owns a shipping company there."

He nods slowly, clearly aware shipping company is a common cover for smuggling operation, but doesn't second guess me and gets to logistics. "We'll need to have them transferred to the Echo of Hope to run any maintenance and then we can hammer out the most important part which is how we're going to get on board."

I nod in agreement but my throat's tight and my mind anywhere but on what he's saying as we enter Mom's office after I'd stormed out yesterday. She invites us to sit and gets straight to business.

"I was impressed with the plan Commander Dameron presented, he noted your contributions to the risk assessment and how to prepare for those risks," she starts and asks "He mentioned you would take care of procuring the ships you need for the mission?"

"Yeah," I say and don't give more information than I have to but she still inquires.

"Where from?"

"A shipping company who owes me a favour," I answer and because I don't want to elaborate she turns to Poe.

"Can you accompany her please to ensure everything goes smoothly?"

He briefly looks at me but finding I don't quite have it in me to argue he agrees. "I can do that."

Silence permeates the room before she asks "Commander could you give us a moment please?"

He nods before leaving and closes the door, it's silent for a moment longer before she says "I have every faith you will pull off this mission."

"Well I'm dead if I don't," I remark, her having said in no uncertain terms how dangerous this is, and she grimaces at the tension between us.

"I know you aren't happy, but this is a step towards remedying some things," she explains gently. "To prove to command you aren't just capable in the field, but strategically competent enough to do these missions by the book with the reports and the rest. Something that is required to move up through the ranks. To show that your missions aren't pure improvisation and that you are mitigating the risks, which you have done."

Her praise should be welcome, but it feels hollow when the only interactions I've had with her have been from across a desk. I don't want praise from my general, I want my mom. Lando promised her, her warmth, her reassuring words that everything would be alright. Not a general's tactical words and praise mixed with criticisms and lessons.

"Yeah," I nod, my throat too tight to manage words, a stark contrast to yesterday. I'd been convinced I'd take off and not look back, that I wouldn't have to sit and deal with the aftermath of my words.

But here I am.

Her expression is heavy as she continues "If you don't feel like speaking to me that's fine, as long as you act sensibly-"

"I can't remember the last time you talked to me as my mom instead of my general," I manage to force out, my voice weaker than I'd like it to be. "I thought from what Lando said I'd be coming home to the former but it seems I was wrong."

"Hope," she says sadly. "I- I know that what I'd said about learning the difference hurt you-"

"It did," I finally admit to her. "Because you're all I have left Mom, and if I don't have you then I don't have anyone except for R2."

There's a type of loneliness that comes from being separated from those you love, but it's a different hell sitting across from them and feeling as if there are galaxies between you.

"For the last year I haven't had a child to parent," she says bluntly but there's remorse in her voice. "Forgive me for struggling to reconcile the two."

She sees it in my eyes, the flight, but before I can even move to leave my seat she reaches across the table for my hand and this time I let her take it.

"I am your mother, but I have to be more than that. Hope, you know this isn't the life I wanted, if anything this is the life you jumped at before we even knew what we were fighting," she reminds me. "You know I wanted to retire before that last scandal but you and I both know neither of us are physically able to walk away from this threat-"

"You mean your son and the monster who groomed him?" I correct since it's just us and she struggles to keep her face neutral. "Mom, you don't have to separate yourself from being our parent to do your duty to the galaxy, you don't have to pretend your child isn't on the opposite side of this war."

"I have to," she says regretfully.

"Well I can't," I fire back and again there's that wall between us we can never truly break down. For her this fight is duty, but for me it's something else entirely, and we both know it. "Don't worry, I'll get whatever intelligence is on that ship."

But as I stand to leave she warns "And I want it returned to this base. If you take off with whatever is on that ship I will send Commander Dameron and Captain Wexley to drag you back to be court-martialled."

Her threat stuns me considering how gentle her voice was a moment ago, but when I meet her eye I realise she knows me too well. She's my mother, of course she should, but it feels as if I hardly know myself anymore. Except she was the one who forced me into a profession that taught me the importance of finding loopholes.

"It will be returned," I state before opening the door and Poe jumps at the haste in which I walk out into the hall and order him. "My ship. Now. We're leaving and heading straight to Batuu and then to the Echo of Hope. Get whatever you need because we won't be returning until the mission is complete."

He blinks in surprise at being given orders but it too taken aback to do anything but raise his hands in his defence as he follows me, but doesn't shy from a whistle. "Alright princess, do I have time to get my droid before we take off?"

"I like the droid," I say, knowing I'm not harsh enough to abandon the little BB unit without explanation. "Speaking of which have you seen mine?"

R2 better not even think about pulling another disappearing stunt now of all times.

"No," he says and after a moment of hesitation asks "You seen mine?"

We stop in the hallway, sharing a look of mutual confusion mixed with alarm at having lost out droids and he scratches his head before following me to the hanger.

"R2!" I call loudly, not wanting to have to search the entirety of the base twice over again only to walk past Threepio on his way from command. "Threepio, what have you done with my droid?"

"I beg your pardon!" he exclaims. "What have I said about manners?"

"Threepio," I warn. "If R2's decided to go rogue on me-"

"Well I do I wonder where he learned that from," Threepio chides and I actually scoff at the protocol droids audacity. "I wish you luck Commander Dameron, statistically speaking you're going to need it."

My mouth falls open as Threepio walks past us and Poe Dameron doesn't look sure whether to laugh or be offended on my behalf, a quick study of my face has him choosing the latter.

"I've never heard Threepio sound so..."

"Sarcastic."

"You know what they say, owners leave an impression on their droids," he tries to reason but quickly clears his throat. "Let's find ours."

In a much more urgent mood to leave base I march into the hanger only to stop when I find R2 and BB-8 chatting happily by my ship. The younger droid beeps excitedly at the sight of his owner and rolls over, trying to fill Poe in on one of the tales R2's regaled him with before chirping at me in an almost equal excitement. People may dislike me, but at least droids seem to take a liking to me. Aside from Threepio, although he has his reasons.

"Hey buddy, ready to go on a mission?" Poe asks his droid, squatting down to rub the droids stomach, or rather what could be classed as a stomach.

R2 beeps at me in question at the company, considering in all the missions we've performed we've never done any with another pilot unless it's been running planetary defence drills.

"Don't get too excited, we're going to Batuu to pick up some ships," I tell R2 and look at Poe. "Ready?"

He gives a nod and follows me onboard my transport along with his droid, and I honestly can't remember the last time I had another person inside this ship. Probably Mom at some point or another in the time before I left base, but other than that my mind's blank.

"This is the Shiraya," I say as we step inside. "Fastest civilian transport in the galaxy and heavily armoured with laser cannons fitted at the back that you can access via the gunners seat along with automatic laser cannons and concussion missiles above the cockpit."

He's mildly alarmed I'm describing the armaments before anything else. "Expecting trouble?"

"No but it's best to be prepared for it," I say knowing it has a habit of finding me. "The First Order's identified my N-1 but this ship should be off the New Republic and the First Order's radars."

"Should be?"

"With the modified hyperdrive and sublight thrusters It's faster than most ships in the galaxy so I'm not exactly worried," I dismiss as we reach the cockpit. It was technically designed during manufacturing to seat a co-pilot but I've only ever flown it myself. "It's served me well that's for sure."

I find my way to my seat and he sits down beside me in the co-pilots seat, somehow the metre between us not being quite enough. "You know your stuff."

"I do," I state factually an this cockpit with a guy who's face I can't even look at without getting flustered.

He nods along, looking like he has questions on his mind but keeps them in as he asks "So Batuu, it's Outer Rim's right?"

"Technically," I answer. "It's commonly known as the last stop before the Unknown Regions."

"Ah," he says as it comes to him. "You ever been out there?"

"Batuu?"

"The Unknown Regions," he clarifies and while I'm mildly annoyed this won't be a quiet trip the curiosity in his voice may override it.

"Not as far as I'd like," I admit, I could leave it there but it is a long enough trip even with the hyperdrive. "I'd gone searching for Jedi temples not too long ago, found some ruins but little else."

"I thought the only temples were on Coruscant and Ossus," he says and I feel his hesitation at treading there which tells me enough about what he's heard.

"The temple on Coruscant was in use for the last few millennia but before that Jedi were somewhat more scattered, living on planets that had a strong natural connection to the force rather than the core worlds," I explain before sighing "Then the Emperor turned the temple into his own personal palace. Scholars have done some work to restore it along with what survived of the archives but it's not like it will ever be the same."

He nods slowly and asks "So that-" he looks at my saber. "That's your lightsaber?"

"A torch," I answer reflexively, that being the answer I've given to just about anyone who's asked that question in the last four years. It started as a lie to get past security while still armed and out of concern for my own security, but it's turned into a little self satisfying joke since. He seems to miss it by the perplexed look on his face and I clarify. "It's a joke."

"Oh," he says and only then do I realise how purely nervous he seems to be, my presence is the only explanation for it but I'm almost hesitant to know what part of that has him like this. I'm especially hesitant to learn if it's a good or bad kind of anxiousness. "So, how does that work? I mean lightsabers, do you make them yourself?" He must see the confused look I wear from all the questions and he's quickly backtracks. "If it's alright asking?"

His jittery curiosity is almost endearing. It brings me back to when I'd begun school on Naboo and the girls in my classes began to learn about my other education. It's certainly a type of awestruck curiosity I haven't experienced since the galaxy learned truth about where those abilities came from. Back when I was the niece of the beloved Jedi Luke Skywalker and not the spawn of Darth Vader.

"Yeah um- I made it myself," I answer, while people like Snap have asked the odd questions no one's ever gotten technical with them. "It's a right of passage in a Jedi's training to construct your own saber. I suppose like it's a right of passage for a pilot to customise and modify their own ship to their specific requirements."

"Huh," he says, visibly making the connection between those examples until his train of thought takes him elsewhere. "Speaking of ships, what sort of starfighters do you think you could pick up? I was thinking something along the lines of Z-95's."

"You're looking for starfighters without astromech pods?" I gather and he nods as both the droids immediately begin to voice their objections.

"The plan I've got in mind would mean ditching the ships and anything in it completely," he explains to them, although seems hesitant to elaborate as he looks at me. "It's a crazy plan, so if you have any alternatives feel free to interject."

"Sounds right up my ally then," I decide, wanting to see if his crazy is my sort of crazy. "Go on."

"We'll need EVA suits," he begins and I tilt my head to the side.

"EVA suits? We wouldn't need those unless-" I squint at him now as I begin to realise he might not be exaggerating. "Unless we're in the vacuum of space."

He leans forward with his elbows on his knees, a spark of excitement in his eyes, talking with his hands as he starts explaining. "We'll have to wait in the system for them to come out of hyperspace, and the moment they do we hit them with concussion missiles which is easy enough but it's what comes next that's gonna be crucial. We'll set the ships to autopilot as we get in range of the belly of the yacht since according to schematics our best chance at breaking in through the access port."

"I've got a lightsaber, I can cut through anything within a certain thickness," I add and he looks a bit too excited at that suggestion before dismissing it.

"I like your thinking but we'll need to reseal the access port so nothing goes wrong when we jump to hyperspace," he says as he goes on. "When we get to the right velocity and the right distance we'll eject, the momentum will hurl us towards the yacht so we can make direct contact. We'll have maneuvering jets on the spacesuits to help us get to where we need to be and to decelerate us enough that we aren't crushed by the impact when we collide with the yacht. When we get to the access port I'll use a fusion torch to break the seals, it might be tricky doing that in space while hanging off the side of the ship but between the two of us I'm sure we'll make it work. We break in and reseal the port as we make our way inside. As long as we can get onboard without getting ourselves killed then that's half the work done. After that it's just getting to the cockpit, putting them on the escape pods and rebooting everything to jump to hyperspace before the eight minutes is up."

I find myself slowly blinking at him at the realisation that Snap was actually understating things when he referred to us as the two batshit crazy pilots on base. Having the force I feel quite safe at the thought of pulling it off since I could logically slow myself down enough that a collision wouldn't kill me, but he has more guts than anyone I've ever met to try to pull that off midspace without it and my mouth curls into a grin.

"I'm in." His grin matches mine now and I'll assure him. "I'll take care of getting those starfighters."

"We'll also need disks with the pre-programmed hyperspace coordinates for the jump since we won't have the droids with us," he adds and only then do we pay attention to the beeps of pure alarm from each of them at our plan.

"R2 I know exactly what you were doing in the Clone Wars so don't try to pull that with me," I remind him and he quickly shuts up while Poe looks between us in alarm. "I'll be just fine."

While R2 tries to object to prioritise my safety he knows what to expect of me by now so that's that, but BB-8 is far more upset at the thought of Poe going without him despite his attempts of reassurance.

"Look buddy, I'm going to be alright I swear," he tries to assure his droid until I intervene.

"How about you take him into the main cabin and go over schematics so he feels better while I make a list of what I'll need to get on Batuu," I suggest, genuinely wanting to figure that out but also not wanting this conversation to get any more personal considering we still have a while left until we reach Batuu. "If you think of anything else we need to go over come and get me."

He gives a nod of approval as he stands up, checking off whatever items he's thinking of on his fingers. "EVA suits and timers we can get from the Echo of Hope, they'll have the concussion missiles we can fit to the starfighters along with the disks to preprogram the jumps to lightspeed. So it should just be the ships and whatever else you think you'll need."

I nod back and look up to inadvertently meet his eye, again not sure quite what I see in it, but for some reason the thought to not trust him hasn't once occurred to me. In the Outer Rims all I've done is be on my guard, and perhaps I still am with him, but not because I don't trust him to be my partner for this mission. No, for far less professional reasons.

I'm clearing my throat more loudly than I'd anticipated before asking "Is that all Commander?"

"Yep, I'll um- I'll let you pilot," he says awkwardly before heading out into the main cabin. My eyes follow him out, finding only conflict when I search my feelings, blockages. He's all but a stranger, a handsome one but still, my instincts tell me to trust him despite experience telling me otherwise. An instinct that's very rare.

But I'm no stranger to ignoring my instincts.

He might look at me like he does now, he might be curious to know me, but I know better than anyone how quickly wide eyed curiosity and warmth turns to something cold, hurtful. For a person you trusted, a person who'd held you through uncertain nights and laughed with you, to turn around and look at you like a monster, to call you as much while looking you in the eye.

That is something I have no intention of putting myself in a situation to relive. I can't control what people believe, but I can control if I let them close enough for it to hurt me.

Poe Dameron returns to the cockpit as we approach Batuu, a hand on the back of my chair as he peers out at the planet. Murmuring to himself as he tries to piece something together.

"Batuu, Black Spire Outpost is located here isn't it?" he asks and I press my lips together, realising he might be slightly more in tune with the criminal operations in the Outer Rims than I'd gathered by the way he says its name. Being a Naval commander chances are he's run patrols nearby trying to intercept shipments.

"Yep," I confirm and he tries to hide his mild alarm. "Don't worry, the guy who runs the place is a friend of mine."

I can't quite read the tone of his voice as he repeats "Friend?"

"Friend," I answer a little awkwardly, not knowing if I'd call Hondo that. "Or rather an old friend of the family."

I don't know if that relieves him or makes him more concerned as we enter the atmosphere and I pilot us down to the port at Blackspire Outpost, this time R2 doesn't even complain. I double check my weapons are secure as we step out into the small city that always seems to be growing. It takes its people a second to recognise me when I'm not dressed like a smuggler but they give a nod of respect as we make our way through the streets.

The sun shines down on us, reflecting off my metal armbands but also casting a glow upon his tan chest, exposed from the open collar of his shirt, there's a glint and I notice a silver chain around his neck. Quickly I turn my head before he can catch my eyes lingering and start talking to distract both of us.

"Along with smugglers and explorers passing through people have been coming here from the border regions seeking refuge from the First Order's expansion," I explain to Poe as our droids follow not far behind us. "I've heard their stories and it's nothing good, so they've come to the furthest place possible."

He shakes his head, expression one of disbelief. "I don't get why the Republic won't take in refugees from those regions. Politics isn't my thing, but I just can't understand why."

"Because for them to be classified as refugees the Republic would have the admit the First Order is something people should be running from, instead of continuing to pretend they can co-exist," I answer but upon feeling his barely repressed frustration try to assure him. "I've managed to set up a network for refugees to be able to settle on Naboo, it's off the Republic's radar."

He stills then a little as he turns his head in surprise, pleasant thankfully. "Does Leia know?"

"She hasn't asked what I've done, only criticised me for the things she knows about," I answer bluntly as we find our way to Ohnaka Trade Solutions.

He tries to be the voice of reason. "If you talked to her-"

"I have, it doesn't end well," I say shortly and cut him off from trying to mediate. "This is it."

We head into Hondo's base and find him as usual, with his feet kicked up on the table, a cup of something in one hand and a cigar in the other.

"Solo!" he calls out, laughing gleefully. "Back already! Tell me, do you have the Falcon?"

"No, the Irving Boys beat me to it," I inform him as he gets to his feet. "Although if you had any tips on their whereabouts it would be welcome."

Poe lingers behind me now and I look back to see him blinking in disbelief as his eyes dart between me and Hondo, clearly aware of the infamous pirate.

"Unfortunately I do not, but I will ask around so I can beat you to stealing it back," he says as I roll my eyes and he takes me in. "Look at that, you can dress like a lady after all. For a moment I thought the late Senator Amidala had walked in. She was quite the figure to watch, it's no wonder that Skywalker boy abandoned the code."

I make a face as I try to unpack the layers to that and he looks behind me in intrigue.

"Oooh a friend?" Hondo says and I immediately sigh as he points out. "A male friend."

Poe steps forward then and I make the introduction, keeping details as vague as possible. "Poe this is Hondo Ohanaka, Hondo this is Poe. He's tagging along with me on a job."

I don't know precisely how much I trust Hondo. I've found he isn't as bad as what Dad and Lando would reminisce but I know he does treat me differently in memory of the Jedi that he had been fond of. Still, he doesn't need to know this job is a Resistance mission.

"Fair, fair," he says guiding us over to the table and leans in to whisper to me. "Although I must say I do have concerns about the fact the pretty boy dresses like your father."

Poe's enough out of earshot he looks confused by whatever expression must cross my face and I point a finger at Hondo. "You owe me a drink for that."

"Fine, fine," he agrees and I motion for Poe to sit down beside me. "So this is a business call I take it."

"Considering you run a perfectly legitimate transport company," I begin, getting straight to the point. "I need two Z-95's that can be fitted with concussion missiles and are reliable in a skirmish."

I reach across the table to pour myself a drink, skulling the cup before looking at Poe and finding him rather uncomfortable with this situation, but not as out of place as I would have assumed he would be. He meets my eyes for just a moment and mouths Hondo's name to me in disbelief and I give a shrug in return, smiling to myself behind my cup.

"I can do that," Hondo finally says and moves to negotiating. "That will cost you-"

"Nothing, considering it a downpayment for those credits you still owe me."

"Oh no, no-" he says. "I am still waiting on a buyer and we settled on fifteen percent-"

"Twenty five remember?" I remind him as Poe shifts beside me. "So, I'll take the Z-95's at no cost and we can bring that number down to five percent." Hondo begins contemplating it. "Or I could just steal the ships and the crystal and find my own buyer?"

Hondo shakes his finger. "It is lucky I like you Solo, I will accept your offer on one term."

"Which is?" Poe asks, wanting to have some hand in the negotiation.

Hondo leans forward now and tells us "Local bartender says he's had officials sniffing around, smelling like Imperial scum."

"First Order?" Poe questions as I tilt my head in intrigue.

"My guess is as good as yours," Hondo says and that's enough for me.

"Consider it done," I say immediately as I get to my feet and tell Poe. "Organise logistics, I'll be back."

But he follows me out of the building in a panic. "Solo, the General was clear that-"

"I don't care what the General said," I say blunty as R2 follows, knowing the drill by now. "You take care of the mission, let me handle the rest."

But he grabs my wrist and I look back at him with as he tries to order me "No, you are going to organise logistics while I see what I can find out."

"Excuse me?" I question with a laugh. "Are you seriously giving me orders?"

He pushes aside his frustration to try to reason with me. "I've let you handle that part of this mission but you're under my command and it's my responsibility to-"

"Let me?" I repeat back to him and pull me wrist free to point my forefinger at him as I make clear. "You do not let me do anything. The only reason I'm co-operating with you is because I want to. So either you do as I tell you to do or I go and get whatever data is on that ship myself."

He shakes his head now with a clenched jaw and I find myself holding his eyes with no difficulty as he challenges "You want to be difficult? Fine. You can be as difficult as you want princess but I'll be difficult as well."

"Oh really?" I laugh since he doesn't know the half of it.

"Really," he says but just as he takes a step towards me I'm dodging a blaster shot as Poe swears loudly and tries to pull me behind cover but in a split second I've pulled my blaster free and fired blindly at the attacker, hearing a body collide with the side of the cantina and look to find a uniformed man clutching his shoulder.

"Hope!" Poe yells as I storm over, pulling me saber free and igniting it as I pull the man to hit feet by his collar, ignoring his cry of pain as I bring my saber to his neck.

"I surrender!" he yells as if that has any meaning to me as I slam him back against the wall, his head hitting the stone surface as he throws his blaster away and raises his hands. "You cannot kill an unarmed man."

"Hasn't stopped me before," I state as his eyes widen, there's nothing to mark him as First Order but I know the tell-tale signs by now, clearly a newer agent who thought that taking a shot at me would work in his favour. Realise the opportunity I have I know I can't let it slip between my fingers, but there's only one question I want answers to. "So how about this? If you want to live you can tell me where Kylo Ren is stationed."

"Solo!" Poe warns, no doubt remembering the orders regarding interrogations but I ignore him.

"I- I don't know," he stammers and in response I dig the blaster in my other hand right into the wound in his shoulder until he screams. "Finalizer- Finalizer!"

"Hope!" Poe yells harshly enough I'm almost stunned as he physically rips me off the agent and tosses me to the side, taking a gentler but firm approach as he grasps the man by his uninjured shoulder. He looks back at me with my ignited saber still in hand, shaking his head in disappointed disbelief before asking the man "Why did you shoot at us?"

"Her, I shot at her," he clarifies, looking straight at me as R2 stands in front of me to try to block me from attacking him while Poe looks between him and I in panic but I have the information I've spent years searching for. "If I killed the last Jedi I'd stand higher than Hux."

Ambition.

I use the force to bring his blaster to my hand and both him and Poe watch on in varying states of alarm as I step closer.

"Solo," Poe warns and raises a hand to keep me back while keeping the agent pinned to the wall.

"So, you're stationed onboard General Hux's flagship, the Finaliser," I put together as he winces. "A low ranking ambitious agent but ultimately pretty damn stupid to take a shot at me and blow your cover."

"You were off guard-" he argues, trying to save his pride.

"People have been taking shots at me since I was sixteen, you should know better," I lecture, disappointed almost that this is what the First Order's putting in the field. "And Kylo Ren is stationed onboard the same ship as you are." He swallows then in fear. "Do you think he's more likely to praise you or kill you for taking a shot at me if we let you go?"

"I-" he stammers in confusion at the question, which means his true identity is still unknown to the First Order. "What?"

Poe wears a similar look of perlexion at my questioning but doesn't intervene as I continue "I can assure you that when you return to that base he will cut you down without mercy after torturing you to find out just what I've said now."

He squirms now with tears in his eyes, his fear only confirming my own theories about what my brother's become.

"Or," I begin, very aware that Poe will most certainly report this incident. "You can tell me everything you know and I will ensure you are safe from them."

Poe finally begins to ease, but the man doesn't. "I've heard what they call you, Jedi Killer. There is no mercy."

He takes advantage of Poe's loosened grip to reach into his pocket and before either of us can react he's bitten down on a device that's too familiar and we jump back as he hits the ground, convulsing before going cold.

"Fuck," I breathe whilst Poe struggles to even look at the body, pale as he brings shaking hands up behind his head, murmuring similar curses under his breath.

A crowd's gathered around now and I bend down to examine the body of the blonde haired man, searching his pockets for identification or anything else I could use to gather intelligence until Poe raps out "What are you doing?"

"Looking for anything of value," I state factually but he grabs my wrist to pull me upright and I stare at him in disbelief at the horrified look he wears. "What?"

"Are you serious?" he asks me, shaking his head. "The hell was that?"

Feeling like I'm about to hear my mother's words come out of his mouth I jump to my defence. "He killed himself-"

"Before that!" he yells as I pull my wrist free. "That was an unarmed soldier and you-" He can't even finish and just motions to the blaster wound, but I know the part he's specifically referring to.

"You need to grow a damn backbone if you think what I just did was unjustified," I spit back at him. "He took a shot at me and I had every right to kill him but I didn't!"

"Because you were interrogating him with a lightsaber and-" he looks at my blaster and I see the blood at it's nuzzle from pushing it into the wound, having broken through the cauterised flesh. "You know what, I see exactly what Leia meant now when she warned me against working with you."

I laugh now, a little dangerously. "Are you serious?"

"I am," he says as the droids try and fail to intervene. "You were specifically ordered not to-"

"I don't care what I was ordered to not do!" I yell, wondering when he's going to get that. "If you haven't noticed my mission is very different to yours and I am the only one trying to get the intel we need and actually act on it!"

"Your mission was to acquire ships, not interrogate a surrendering spy who killed himself before you could!"

"I was going to let him go! I was going to help him!" I yell right back. "And if you want to throw blame around then fine since you were the one who gave him the chance to do it because you were too busy trying to play the good guy!"

At that he turns his head, trying to compose himself before looking back at me and I finally see it. The look. Although sooner than I'd anticipated and his voice is hoarse "I'm not arguing while standing over a dead body. Get whatever the hell you need while I sort out those ships and then we're meeting back at the Echo of Hope. I'll find my own way there with the ships."

"Fine by me Commander," I say and he storms off without another word to me and I'm struggling to keep my own composure I look to one of Hondo's men. "Move the body to somewhere I can examine it privately and find the transport he arrived on."

"Yes Princess," he answers, calling me that far more respectfully than Poe did and with that I go to get what I need. The booster cables and a separate disk to make a copy of the intelligence from the yacht before giving the damn thing over to the Resistance.

I am getting whatever is on that damn yacht with or without him. I know where Ben is stationed, and if I can find what system the Finalizer frequents then I'm one step closer to ending all of this.

But as I look down at the blood staining the white fabric I wear, my blaster having brushed against it, a heaviness settles over me at the realisation I couldn't even make it one single day without giving into that anger. Even worse, my attempt at being better still ended the same as my last cursed mission.

In violence.

Jedi Killer that agent called me, maybe I haven't killed any Jedi, but I've sure as hell butchered their legacy.

Tags: @arrthurpendragon

#poe dameron #poe dameron x solo!oc #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x oc #sequel trilogy #poe dameron x original character #solo original character #skywalker original character #solo!oc #poe dameron x solo original character #star wars fanfiction #star wars original character #sequel trilogy fanfiction #poe dameron x f!oc #poe dameron x female original character

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finnpoerebelscum · 1 year

Text

FALLOUT - Chapter 11

Chapters Posted: 11 of 18

Rating: T+

Warnings: Canon-typical violence & fighting/blood/gore/graphic descriptions of injury/angst/hurt/comfort/Multiple POVs

Characters/Pairings: Poe Dameron/Finn, Karé Kun, Iolo Arana, BB-8, OCs.

Summary: Still reeling in the aftermath of Crait, Poe Dameron and Finn are sent to a secret Resistance base tucked away on Lothal to serve as acting generals. Their numbers dwindled to barely a handful, and with General Organa’s order grounding all surviving Resistance personnel to heal and regroup, morale is at an all time low. Poe grapples with his inability to sit still; the First Order looms, an ever-encroaching threat to what remains of the Outer Rim’s free space; intimate feelings grow impossible to ignore and a shocking return promises devastating consequences not only for those stationed on Lothal, but for the Resistance and galaxy at large.

A/N: An AU adventure, a side-quest of sorts, to account for some of the time between TLJ and ROS. Stormpilot centric. Canon up until the end of TLJ (but does not take into account Resistance Reborn or the Finn/Rose arc).

Masterlist

CHAPTER 11

There was no gradual return to wakefulness.

Karé was nowhere, suspended in cold, all consuming oblivion, and then she was very suddenly awake. Dry and gnarled trees snapped into focus above her. Urgent, pulsing pain in her left leg, her head, her neck. Flat on her back against cold, hard ground.

The sky above was a rich gridelin, streaked through with wispy red clouds. Was it night? Dawn? A soft bump, bump, bump against her right ankle. She lifted her head with difficulty and saw BB-8, rolling backwards and forwards into her leg in an attempt to rouse her. His durasteel exterior was singed black on one side, but he seemed to be functioning fine.

“I’m up, Beebee-Ate. I’m up. You okay?”

BB-8 meeped uncertainly.

An odd sound had filled her ears; harsh, ragged whooshes of air. She realized, belatedly, that it was her own breathing.

A face appeared above her, blotting out the sky and the scraggy trees. Strange, yellow eyes deep set in a wrinkled, cyan face peered down at her, two lekku swinging against broad shoulders. The Twi’Lek bent in closer.

Karé’s ragged breathing sharpened, her hand fumbled to where her blaster should have been strapped to her thigh.

It was gone.

The pain in her leg was everywhere now, traveling through her foot, up her side, burrowing deep into her hip. She could not escape it. A distant ringing muffled BB-8’s warbling and white swept into the edges of her vision—

A swell of warmth and calm spread outward from her chest in one great ripple, through her arms to her fingertips, mercifully dulling the pain in her leg, and out to the tips of her toes. The adrenaline punch subsided; the world cleared.

The Twi’Lek offered his hand, and in a soft, accented baritone asked, “Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

He pulled her to her feet, and when he seemed satisfied she wouldn’t keel over, took two steps back, giving her space to assess herself.

Nothing broken, as far as she could tell. She spun in a slow circle, taking in the barren surroundings. Behind the Twi’Lek, the pod was still smoking, its bulbous helm embedded in the dirt. It had crushed several parched trees on its way down, carving out a ditch in the desert floor. The dust had not yet fully dissipated. She must not have been out long.

If the Twi’Lek meant her harm, he really was drawing it out. Maybe he had just been waiting for her to wake up. No fun killing someone already half-dead… Who knows what psychos living in the desert do for fun?

BB-8 rolled up to the Twi-Lek and bleeped up at him once. He crouched down in front of him.

“Well, hello. You look quite different than I remember.” He turned to Karé. “Is it just you and your astromech?” He strangely seemed to have expected more.

Karé struggled to grasp the slivers of moments just before the crash. Most dissipated as soon as she tried to pin one down long enough for it to make sense. The pod had held up as they made their jump… Poe and Finn… Lost control of the G-9. An explosion of light. Iolo flinging his hand out, activating her seat eject. Then nothing.

The Twi’Lek momentarily forgotten, she lurched toward the pod. BB-8 raced after her. A hole gaped where the stabilizer fin and back engine had been torn away.

“Iolo!”

The familiar figure was slumped over the flight-stick in the pilot seat.

“Iolo?” The frantic beat of her heart jumped into her throat as she slid her hands on either side of his face and tilted it up to her. She rubbed the pads of her thumbs across the skin under his eyes. Still warm. Still breathing. She forced herself to slow her own.

A strand of hair flopped down over his eyes and joined the mess that was matted to a nasty gash in his forehead. Blood oozed in a lazy line down to his right eyebrow. Finally, his eyes opened.

“So much for… sticking the landing.”.

Karé puffed a heavy sigh, sinking down against the flight console behind her. The Twi’Lek had entered the ship as well, and hung back in the shadow created by a mangled piece of ceiling. His long, tawny robes looked so out of place, yet so familiar at the same time. Echoes of her childhood bedtime stories swirled in her mind. The stories of mysterious Force-strong beings who could manipulate people and surroundings with their thoughts. It wasn’t possible.

Karé watched Iolo gingerly unclip the four point harness. His right hand was burnt, the skin shiny and red.

“Where did we end up? Hey—!”

Iolo registered the Twi’Lek before Karé could warn him. His hand went to his blaster as he whipped around to face the stranger.

“Iolo, wait!”

The blaster rocketed across the ship, knocked free by an invisible momentum. Karé gasped.

The Twi’Lek emerged from the shadows, both hands up. “I am not here to hurt you.”

“Who the hell are you?” Iolo backed up to shield Karé with his body. She stepped out from behind him.

“I am Ira Nyx. I saw your ships go down.”

“You just happened to be out here at that exact moment?”

“I live here.”

“Iolo…” Karé began.

He silenced her with a wave of his hand, not taking his eyes off of Ira. “You live here, huh?”

Before Ira could answer, Karé cut in. “Hang on. Did you say ships?”

Ira nodded. “I watched two ships crash. The second not too far from here.”

BB-8 gave a happy chirp, lights blinking in a frenzy. Karé felt a small twinge of hope, and with it newfound urgency to get to Poe and Finn. Their ship had been in much worse shape than the pod to start and there was no telling how it had fared in a crash. The throbbing in her leg returned insistently.

“We must tend to your injuries first,” Ira said, as if reading her mind.

Iolo’s next words stopped hers in her throat. “You survived Order 66.”

Youthful and eager, Iolo could be somewhat idealistic, but he was quick and wicked smart. He was also, apparently, a war history enthusiast. Order 66 happened long before either of them were born. Most of their generation knew of the Jedi from bedtime stories, not that they had actually existed, and were eradicated by the Empire decades ago. A look of immense sadness filled the Twi’Lek’s face, fleeting, but so tangible Karé’s throat and eyes pricked with it, too.

“I would like to help you.” Ira was quiet when he spoke again.

Iolo’s shoulders drooped a fraction, though whether it was apprehension receding or his adrenaline deserting him, Karé couldn’t tell. “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” His voice was breathless. “That was decades ago. You’ve been here since then?”

“Yes. I knew this day would come.”

Karé and Iolo waited. BB-8 burbled. Ira offered no further explanation. Instead, he continued, “Your ship is wrecked and you need medical attention. Let me help you. Once you are well, I will lead you to your friends.”

Iolo opened his mouth to protest, but the words trailed off as he swayed. Karé grabbed a fistful of his flight suit and propped him up as best she could. As far as she could see, this was their only option. They wouldn’t do Poe and Finn much good if they couldn’t make it to them.

* * *

“Are you ready?”

Finn knew what was coming, and, no, he wasn’t. He stared at his right arm, limp in his lap. A hands-length longer than his left, it hung like the busted tubes dangling from the ceiling of their wrecked craft, detached and alien. It wasn’t the first time he’d dislocated a shoulder. Or the second.

Mental conditioning as a stormtrooper cut out the middleman between “jump” and “how high?”—stormtroopers just jumped. The physical conditioning was to make sure they survived the jump. In reality, it was hours of training off the battlefield, where they killed each other at the same rate they died in actual combat.

He was fifteen the first time, and it was his left. His days were spent corralled from training rooms to combat simulations, like herding bantha to slaughter. It was their third exercise of the day; hand to hand combat. Down and dirty. Finn learned quickly the name of the game wasn’t winning, just surviving. The gargantuan trooper he was paired with didn’t even have to try. He grabbed Finn’s forearm with bone-crushing force as he weaved out of the way, and yanked. It left the socket with a sinuous pop and he blacked out.

The next thing he remembered were two troopers pulling him from the mass into a galley off the main corridor as they were herded to their next training. One took off Finn’s helmet and clamped a hand over his mouth. The other grabbed his useless left arm and tugged. Barbaric, but with practiced precision. His shoulder slid back into place.

“There. Now you’ll survive the rest of the day. Hopefully.” Then they had shoved his helmet back on his head and pushed him back into the group filtering down the corridor.

“Finn?” Poe’s voice brought him back.

“Yeah,” he grunted and urged his muscles to shed any tension. It would only hurt more.

Poe, crouched in front of him, gave him an incredibly charming, “Here goes nothing” look and braced the palm of his hand against Finn’s armpit. He slid his other hand around Finn’s wrist, and using the wall behind Finn’s back as counter-pressure, yanked. Finn bit back a yell, but was relieved to feel the shoulder slide back into its socket with a snick.

“Damn. It worked.” Poe grinned.

Most of the lights in the downed G-9 were dead, with the exception of the few that hung down in a tangled mass of wires in places where the ceiling was crushed in. The strange glow underlined the bruises and smattering of bloody gashes along Poe’s hairline and cheekbones. Most of his injuries looked like they came from the shattered transparisteel on the pilot’s side. The co-pilot’s window had held, but the impact with the earth had contorted the metal, pinning Finn’s right shoulder to the seat with it.

They were nowhere near the capital city, let alone any settlement or outposts. Finn had briefly exited the ship to search the landscape. The ship had come to rest under a thick patch of the skeletal trees that dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see as well as a cluster of the jagged rocks that jutted out of the cracked soil. It went for miles in every direction he turned, meeting the sky in a continuous loop, until he got dizzy squinting to see where it ended.

The cluster of trees and rock the G-9 was jammed into offered some protection, if only concealing them from overhead visibility. But it was freezing. The cold seeped steadily into the cramped shuttle, chilling the durasteel all around them.

Poe came out of his crouched position and sat back, stilling himself.

He was in pain, Finn realized.

The outer physical signs weren’t there, but Finn knew it. Somehow.

His own shoulder had dulled to barely an ache; it definitely wasn’t his pain he was feeling anymore.

“Think you can get the comms up and running?” Poe asked him, voice tight. “I’ll take the engine.” He brought one knee up to stand, then stopped. The lines in his brow deepened.

“Poe? Hang on.” Finn pushed him back down. “Let me make sure you’re not injured first.”

“I’m fine.” Poe gave him a lopsided grin, but didn’t try to get up again. Finn reached up to pull one of the blinking lights closer. Finn guided his palms over Poe’s extremities, checking for blood after each one. A hush fell over the two of them as he searched, the only sound the frigid whistling and the increasingly clipped in and out of Poe’s breath. Finn felt more than saw that Poe was favoring his left side, even as he sat. His hands hovered over Poe’s chest for a moment.

Poe nodded, perhaps as much for himself as for Finn’s sake. “It’s okay.”

Finn peeled back the left side of Poe’s jacket and it stuck to his hip and side. Dread laced its way around Finn’s gut. It was blood. The shirt went up next, soaked through and tacky. There was a significant gash in the skin of Poe’s left side, it wound its way around his ribs down to his hip. Finn was frozen in place, heart hammering.

“That’s way worse than I thought it was.” Poe’s words caught in his throat. “Okay. Minor setback.” Hand shaking, he gestured to a panel above Finn’s head. “Check in there for a medpac.”

“That’s going to take more than a bacta patch.” Finn found himself saying. Clamping down on the panic climbing up his throat, he forced himself to stand. His fingers padded along the edge of the tarnished panels until he found the pressure opening and pressed. The panel popped open. Sure enough, a tiny medpac was tucked in next to a few rolls of gauze. He scooped them up and dropped them on the floor next to Poe.

The gash was deep. Scary deep. Down to several layers of red tissue and muscle closest to his hip and more superficial around his ribcage. The deeper parts still oozed, albeit in a lazy rhythm. Slow, but not enough to quell Finn’s panic. He didn’t have any medical knowledge. Troopers weren’t entitled to first aid. Anything a bacta patch couldn’t fix—you were as good as dead.

He picked up a roll of the gauze. It dropped from his numb fingers. He struggled with the zipper on the medpac. Inside were a pair of surgical scissors, some tape, a comically minuscule bacta pack, and some pills.

“This is just a bump in the road.” Poe’s hand came to rest on his. Finn dropped the medpac altogether and grabbed Poe’s hand.

He was almost dizzy, overwhelmed by the pain he could feel rolling off Poe in waves.

“We’ll figure this out. Just help me throw some bandages on so we can get to working on the comms, yeah? Hey.” Poe slid two fingers under Finn’s chin and made him look up. The touch was electrifying, circumstances be damned. Finn’s hand went to Poe’s face, and he leaned into the touch. They sat for a few moments, in silence punctuated only by the icy gusts that whistled through cracked transparisteel and the clipped in and out of Poe’s breaths.

Then, Poe straightened abruptly. “What are you doing?”

Finn’s heart dropped. This was it: he had overstepped. Misread the moment and crossed the line. “Nothing. I’m so sorry. I was just—”

“No, no, no.” Poe squeezed Finn’s hands in fleeting reassurance. “I mean you did something.”

The realization dawned on them both at the same time. Poe’s voice was stronger and his breathing had evened out.

“I—I don’t know,” Finn said. His eyes flicked down to the hand that had been holding Poe’s face, then back up to meet Poe’s gaze. “But you look better.”

“See? Just a bump in the road.” Poe gave him a brilliant grin that made Finn’s legs tremble for completely different reasons. “What do you say we get those comms up and running?”

The bacta pack, predictably, had barely been enough to cover the deepest grooves of the wound, but Poe insisted he felt better. Finn pulled him to his feet and he was steady, so for the time being Finn believed him. They wound the gauze around Poe’s midsection together, hands catching on each other, fumbling then resuming their twisting rhythm. Several times, Finn found himself on the cusp of telling Poe, the words burning on the tip of his tongue, his heart pounding. He just couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate.

Once they finished, Poe found the panel that housed the communication equipment, bashed in from the impact. Together, they dislodged it. Wires spilled out, some sparking, others, fried beyond recognition. It was the perfect distraction, and Finn chalked up his momentary bravery to the last dregs of adrenaline. Ill-timed love confessions aside, they had one hell of a job ahead of them.

* * *

The landscape of Garel was varied, but the blasted quadrant they’d crashed in was a cracked, flat expanse that stretched on endlessly, only occasionally dotted with scraggy trees. Garel City was nowhere in sight. You could see for eons. Karé was beginning to doubt her choice to accept help from Ira Nyx. One of his strides took nearly three of hers, and she was half-dragging, half-carrying Iolo at this point. He’d stopped making sense miles back. An overgrown thicket of the skeletal trees sprung up in the distance. Iolo stumbled and nearly sent them crashing into the dust.

“How much further?” Karé grunted. Her leg was fire, screaming for her to stop. With a glance over her shoulder, she could still see the smoking husk of the pod behind them, now a tiny gray dot in the distance. Ira eclipsed into the thicket.

“We are here,” his muffled voice floated through the dense brush.

The branches clawed at her and Iolo, the path now too small for the two of them. Iolo’s knees finally folded under him, dropping them both. Before they hit the earth, Ira reappeared, lifting Iolo off of her. The sudden weightlessness was disorienting, she stumbled after him through the brush.

The copse opened up into a clearing. In the middle, stood a small dwelling, handmade with a combination of earth and branches and trunks of the Garel trees. A misshapen chimney jutted out of the top. It looked like a giant, lumpy bowl turned upside down. Beside a window carved in the front was a taller opening, where a tattered cloth hung in place of a door.

A fire blazed inside, and only then did Karé realize she was shivering. Ira lowered Iolo onto a makeshift bed in the far corner, a piece of fabric filled with leaves and twigs. Then he returned to where she was hanging off the door frame. BB-8 hummed inquisitively at her heels.

“Come. Sit.” Ira took her by the shoulders and lowered her into one of the chairs at a little table opposite the bed.

“Why are you helping us?”

“You look like you could use it.”

“But you’ve been hiding for what—forty years? Why now?”

“That time has ended. I have been waiting for you. All of you.”

Karé couldn’t focus through the white-hot burning in her leg and her eyes dropped down to look at it. The world shimmered and tilted as she took in the damage. Her flight suit hung in tatters around her left thigh, the flesh a seared and peeling mess. “That…” She swallowed with difficulty. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Ira’s palm came to rest flat on the worst of her ruined flesh. Before she could recoil, a familiar rush of warmth pooled from under his hand, numbing the agony as it went. Then, slowly, he lifted it again.

The burn was gone.

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aimmyarrowshigh · 1 year

Note

torn, wished, domme, and cavalry for snap/karé please! hope you're doing well 🧡

Uhhhhh sorry this is coming in months after you requested it. I'm walking in late with Starbucks.

All of the requested prompts were filled except "Torn," so here you go!

49. Torn @ AO3

#100 drabble tumblr challenge: fifteen fifteen fifteen #star wars

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ao3feed--reylo · 1 year

Text

A Fleet of Fire & Fury

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/4IriKpS

by ValitaIloa

General Armitage Hux of the First Order has a penchant for meticulousness and precision. He is a loyal follower of the Supreme Leader, devoted to the cause of bringing structure to an unruly galaxy.

So, naturally, he falls in love the first time someone saves his life.

{or,

Two women trying to keep their respective idiots alive through a galactic war.}

Words: 61, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Galaxy's Edge (Attraction)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, Other

Characters: Snoke (Star Wars), Enric Pryde, Armitage Hux, Original Resistance Characters (Star Wars), Original Sith Character(s), Original Female Sith Character(s), Rose Tico, Leia Organa, Poe Dameron, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Dopheld Mitaka, Original First Order Characters (Star Wars), Original Non-Human Character(s), Temmin "Snap" Wexley, Karé Kun, Jessika Pava, Poe Dameron's Black Squadron Members

Relationships: Armitage Hux/Original Female Character(s), Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Kylo Ren/Ben Solo, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Original Female Character(s), Poe Dameron/Original Character(s), Armitage Hux/Original Character(s)

Additional Tags: Fix-It of Sorts, Not Canon Compliant, We use canon like a buffet, no beta we die like greedo, Sexual Tension, Armitage Hux Lives, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Mentioned Brendol Hux, Past Child Abuse, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Kidnapping, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, Uneasy Allies, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends, Sometimes Spicy?, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Dialogue, Protective Armitage Hux, Protective OC, Girl Saves Boy, Hurt Armitage Hux, Workplace Relationship, Banter, Accidental Plot, Dom/sub Undertones, Aftercare, Whump, Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Threats of Violence, Aftermath of Torture, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/4IriKpS

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Star Wars #Star Wars Sequel Trilogy #Reylo #Rey #Ben Solo #Kylo Ren #AO3 #ne

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poelya · 1 month

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The Resistance base maintains two primary X-Wing squadrons, code-named Red and Blue. Blue Squadron is the primary line of defense for the base, with Red Squadron flying as support. Commander Poe Dameron leads both squadrons, under the callsign Black Leader - not as an indication of a separate squadron, but to denote his specialized fighter, Black One. (The Force Awakens Visual Dictionary)

so obviously, Soule straight up ignored this when crafting the Poe comics and I think it's simultaneously a shame because it fits in more with the overall vibe of the Resistance and because it feels wildly counter intuitive to the reason that Soule says he likes Poe: that Poe feels like he's everyone's best friend.

But in the same breath, Soule decided to make the very specific decision to ignore a very interesting bit of worldbuilding and character building (Poe being a dork and loving his ship so much he names himself after it, yeah I know that's right) to make a Super Special Squadron of Poe's Closest Friends and then we never see any of the rest of the Resistance in the entire series with the exception of one small cameo from Statura in an issue feels like a very odd choice, especially when you consider how neglected Poe's friendships even with Black Squadron is: if anyone who read those comics hadn't read Before the Awakening, they surely wouldn't know Karé knew Poe all the way back in his New Republic days and that she flew in his squadron and followed him to the Resistance; I don't even think she and Poe hold (1) conversation at all in the entire series. Poe and Snap have a lot more moments, and there's the occasional reference to Poe and Jess talking offscreen, but, yeah - the comics feel oddly isolated in a way that feels very contradictory to the reason that Soule claims to like Poe.

A better writer might have done something interesting with the way Poe feels increasingly closed off/isolated from his squadron of his allegedly closest friends, in the fallout of having spent so long being uncertain if he could trust them. But instead, if the intent to explore that was there, it seems incidental to Soule's desire for fun Mission Impossible style adventures and gets swept under the rug; and it's certainly a recurring pattern. The current comic run wants us to believe so badly that Lando is adored by the masses in the Rebellion, to the point that his betrayal and command's subsequent desire to execute him, has to be kept secret because it would be a colossal blow to morale - but we never actually see any of the "everyone in the Rebellion loves Lando", it all happens offscreen and falls flat. Unless Holdo fucking him counts.

Truly, the more I sit and ponder on the comics, the less I like the choices Soule made, and wish someone else had written them, and the funniest thing is I think the only reason I've started turning a critical eye on them is because of how poorly the current Star Wars run is being written by him.

#nym speaks #poe comics #my meta #it just! feels! so counter intuitive! dude what ARE you doing #you know how filoniverse is like some bizzaro alt universe of post rotj sometimes.#soule comics and resistance reborn feels like a weird bizzaro alt universe of an otherwise fairly cohesive pre tfa era #at thiiiiiiiiis point. idk if i count them as canon #i would honestly ignore them if it were not for the fact that volume two FUCKS SO GODDAMNED HARD #girl every day i wish we saw the rammies of poe deciding to hand a man over to be KILLED #bUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #also i learned ello flew in colbat squadron! which i love and ties in well with the idea that paige flew wingman with poe before

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spctrsgf · 2 years

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poe dameron masterlist

for our favorite flyboy :)

the simulation

you’re a new pilot joining the resistance, and the Black Squadron sends you and others into a simulation to test your abilities.

"trust me, i know."

black six is dead. because of you.

bandages

poe’s gone for too long, and the worry is starting to gnaw at your brain.

late - a note on this fic: a lovely person told me that karé and snap are actually canonically married, so please ignore that technicality!

another day, another mission where poe is (not just a little) late. alternatively: i wanted to write a fic where poe loves to bury his face in your neck and i got carried away with the buildup and too lazy to write more about it– later

rocks and faulty plans

you and poe make an unexpected stop to a rocky planet. with a broken ship.

-> based off this prompt

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the-force-awakens · 1 year

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Top five Poe friendships?

oh an EXCELLENT question and one that is Right up my alley hell fucking yeah let's do this

BB-8, I love them, I love their dynamic, it's so good and sweet and I need more

Leia. Dreamer's Hands means absolutely everything to me I fucking love them so much.

Snap! If I speak I will start crying

Karé. I just love the idea of him having somebody that he's known him all the way from the new republic to the resistance and I wish we saw a lil more of their dynamic

.....I'm going to go with Kaz for this one because I love watching Poe try to come across as this super cool older brother type when he's actually a super competent disaster

Ask me my top five anything!

#ask box #i-belong-to-the-stars #shout out to him and jess being autism buddies!!! and suralinda I have an elaborate bg for them in my head they fascinate me #also Kaydel too.

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maggiesarchives · 4 years

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Headcanon Blast: Single Dad Au

Aka: an unorganized, random list of headcanons for the single dad au

Poe and Jess were beat friends literally since birth, and they were neighbors too so they never really went more than a week without seeing each other all the way up until college time

Libby loves moana libby loves moana libby loves moana LIBBY LOVES MOANA LIBBY LOVES MOANA LIBBY LOVES MOANA

Poe went to college in NYC to pursue a music career and got a general music degree or something like that

Poe has a sister named Elena, and Libby REALLY looks up to her

Libby's mom (who I havent named yet) was from Greece and she was in NYC for college and Poe was like, high key in love with her and kinda thought maybe she would be the one but then she broke his heart.....

He thought they were going to raise Libby together but she was just like "nah fam I'm not ready to be a mom" and left in the middle of the night, leaving a letter for Poe

She writes to him and Libby once or twice a month

Poe is bi, btw

I usually hc him as gay but for plot purposes in this one he's bi

Finn is an insomniac and a chronic stress baker

No Kylo in this fic bc he's a lil bitch and I do not like him

Poe surfs.

High key a few of Poe's traits on this fic are stolen from Marty Deeks from NCIS LA (surfing, love of theater and sour patch kids)

Poe has two necklaces!!

One is kinda long, sits about mid chest, its just a leather strap with Shara's ring

The other one sits about collar bone level, so visible above most shirts, its a black chord with a little wood pendant carved to look like a compass

But necklaces bave huge emotional significance to Poe, the first for obvious reasons, but you'll have to wait to learn about necklace #2 (unless you're nat, who hears basically all my ideas as soon as I make them)

LIBBY IS LIKE BESTIES WITH SNAP AND KARÉ'S KIDS AND ITS SO PURE OKAY???

Snap and Karé have two boys named Eli and Joey

Finn and Rey own a bakery together :)))

Poe gets a job as a mechanic

POE SINGS A LOT OKAY???

He really likes James Taylor, and he sings You've Got A Friend and Sweet Baby James to Libby as lullabies

Poe, Jess, Snap and Karé all live within walking distance of each other

JESS WILL BE THE BEST MAN AT POES WEDDING OKAY

Not because I think Snap matters less, but because of how I set up their friendship story

Poe and Jess were friends since birth, and Poe went to college in NYC while Jess stayed closer to home (home is Virginia Beach)

Snap was Poe's college roommate are Karé was Jess's roommate

Snap was coming to visit Poe after he had moved back, and he invited him to a cookout w/ Jess, and Jess happened to be bringing Karé

And Snap and Karé ended up going out and trying long distance for a while (bc snap was still living in NYC) but then Snap moved to virginia beach and they got engaged and got a place together like four blocks from Poe's house and six blocks from Jess

Finn is constantly cuffing his pants, wearing tucked in shirts with colorful patterns, wearing belts, dressing like a Poster Bi™

Did I already say that Rey and Finn are best friends?? Idk if I did, but they are.

Rose fits in here somewhere, I havent figured out exactly where yet

I think she maybe works at the same garage as Poe bc Mechanic Rose is SO underused.

#aight thats all for now #single dad au #finnpoe #snap/karé #star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars sequals #finn #poe dameron #rey #jessika pava #snap wexley #kare kun

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gallaghersgal · 4 years

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Sneak Peek at the Single Dad Au

This is 100% unedited, and I didnt fix the formatting either, so all italics are gone, but I really just wanted to put this out there for feedback so here we are

Enjoy!

They gathered their things and headed down to the beach access, making a quick pit stop at an ice cream truck parked in the public access parking lot because who could resist a nice firecracker pop on the fourth of July? Not Poe, that was for sure.

"We come bearing gifts!" Poe shouted, holding out the frozen treats on his hands for everyone to see. Jess whooped, standing to grab her cherry italian ice and the spoon that came with it.

"Mmmmwah!" she made a funny noise as she placed an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. "Dameron, sometimes I swear you're a godsend," she said, tearing into the package.

"It's cause I am," he replied.

"Daddy!" Libby ran smack into him, wrapping her arms around his hips. "Did you get me a fudge bar?"

"'Course I did Libs," he showed it to her, but held it just out of her reach for now. "Go let Auntie Karé wash off your hands, then you can have it."

She bounced over to Karé, who was using a bottle of clean water to wash the sand and sticky salt residue off her sons' hands.

"Alright, we've got a firecracker pop and a fistbump for Eli, cause he's got taste, a fudge pop for miss Liberty Rose, an orange pushpop for Joey, and a Klondike Bar for one Karé Wexley." He handed out the treats, "get 'em while they're cold, cause they won't last long!"

"You're telling me that," Finn retorted, looking dejectedly at his half melted strawberry ice cream cup.

"C'mere," Jess pulled him into the shade of the umbrella, "that should be a little better."

Bee, who had been sitting patiently by Jess's side all but tackled Poe as soon as he sat down in the sand. "Aw, hey buddy!" He used the hand that wasnt holding his firecracker pop to scratch behind Bee's ears, resting their heads together for a second. "I know, I missed you too!" Be rolled over into the sand, offering up his belly. Poe gave him all the scratches his little heart desired as he hurried to finish his firecracker pop before it melted.

As soon as it was gone, he was up. "Who's coming swimming?" he asked.

Jess immediately stood, stretching out like a cat. "I'll bite," she said. As soon as Jess was up, Rey was too, and then Finn. Snap and Karé decided to stay back, watch their things and watch the kids, who were still working on their mega castle.

The water was warm and nice, in that calm-but-not-too-calm kind of way where the waves would send you floating up but wouldn't overpower you. Rey stood about ankle deep for a while and Finn waded in slowly while Poe and Jess threw caution to the wind, diving straight into the waves. When they resurfaced, they waved to the other two, beckoning them in.

"When are you gonna ask Finn out," Jess inquired quietly, twisting her wet hair into a quick messy braid.

"When are you gonna ask Rey out?" he retorted, and Jess splashed him in the face. They would've fallen into friendly bickering if it weren't for Finn popping up beside them.

They treaded water, chatting and floating up over each wave. Some of them were crashing just a little farther out, and they swam over to the chest deep water. They made a game out of guessing which waves would crash, and which ones wouldn't. If they didn't think the wave would crash, they'd ride over it. However, if they did think it was going to crash, they'd dive through it.

Everyone picked their stance for each wave, earning a point if they chose correctly and loosing one if they didn't. Whatever you picked, you had to stop with, even if that meant trying to ride a wave as it crashed on top of you.

"Alright, we've got me in the lead with ten points, Jess close behind at eight, Finn trailing her with five, and Rey, poor girl, dead last with two zero points." Poe said, rubbing his hands together. "That is the championship wave," he pointed to one about eight feet out. "I'm gonna go with ride."

"Ride," Finn decided.

Jess studied the wave for a split second, then said "dive."

Rey made some stressed out noises as the wave approached, then finally blurted out "dive!"

Seconds later, the wave was crashing on top of them. The rush of water pushed Finn and Poe together, tangling their limbs and they swam upwards. They surfaced caught up in each other, laughing and spitting out seawater. Poe blushed, feeling Finn's hand on his chest as they clung to each other, waiting for the swell of water to recede.

I hope you guys liked!! Feedback would be great please

Tagging @natthemess and @thelazyhero-ttums, my eternal supporters :D

Taglist: @wheeliebinbyers @stormpilotsrus @kitmarloweki @shibasus @tinyphantomsalad

#finnpoe #star wars #star wars sequel trilogy fanfic #star wars sequals #star wars sequel trilogy #stormpilot #snap/karé #snap wexley #jessika pava #kare kun #finn #poe dameron #rey #single dad au #mags' finnpoe chronicles

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galacticwildfire · 7 months

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Fire Meet Gasoline | Poe Dameron

Chapter Fifteen

64.media.tumblr.com

Poe Dameron x Solo!Original Character

Full chapter on Wattpad & ao3

Tags for excerpt: slight jealousy, gossiping over caf, Poe being a tad dramatic

"I didn't realise Snap and Kare were together."

Poe's confusion proves that either they're good at keeping secrets or that this is a new development. "They aren't?"

"That's not what I saw this morning," I say and he blinks at me before leaning in, checking over his shoulder to make sure they aren't listening.

"What did you see?"

I take a slow sip of my drink, the cup masking my face as I make a puckering sound and his eyebrows shoot up in question and I nod in return, no words needing to be exchanged there.

For someone who's a generally relaxed person he seems utterly scandalised. "I can't believe they didn't tell me."

"You seem more offended than surprised," I note, for a second wondering if there's jealousy behind that offence since he's so close to both of them. There's nothing that seems unusual about his closeness with Kare from what I've observed, and whilst he and Snap are more touchy than most that too seems to just be a close friendship.

"Yeah, my two best friends get together and leave me out of the loop," he exclaims in a hushed voice and I'm surprised by the relief that inadvertent assurance gives me, that there isn't any jealousy but rather just Poe being a tad dramatic. "I'm surprised too to be honest. I knew he was crazy about Karé but I never thought she saw him that way."

#oc: hope solo #fic: fire meet gasoline #poe dameron x oc #poe dameron x solo!oc

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finnpoerebelscum · 1 year

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FALLOUT - Chapter 15

Chapters Posted: 15 of 18

Rating: T+

Warnings: Canon-typical violence & fighting/blood/gore/graphic descriptions of injury/angst/hurt/comfort/Multiple POVs

Characters/Pairings: Poe Dameron/Finn, Karé Kun, Iolo Arana, BB-8, OCs.

Thank you to anyone who has read, liked, and/or reblogged! I am so grateful for you and your time.

Masterlist

CHAPTER 15

His entire body had caught fire.

Brilliant red and orange flames licked up his legs, gently at first, then roaring to life. Eating him alive. Burning him to dust, up his hips, smoldering a black hole in his left side.

A sky of black clouds, thundering against a backdrop of gray ash, alight with bolts of electricity. Screams, ears ringing, dizzy. Mangled ships, bodies. The dead, reaching for him with their ice-gnarled gray fingers. A fissure in the dark, a flash of light, choked out.

They came as dreams, at first. Puzzling but innocuous; mostly forgotten by morning. For decades, Ira Nyx shut it all out; every instinct, anything that connected him to the living. But soon, the visions came on during the day. Violent, taxing, and always undecipherable to an infuriating degree.

They crept unbidden into his conscious mind, snapping his days in two, distorting reality. The looming shadows took on shapes—the shapes of living beings. Faces he didn’t know at the time were very clearly those of Poe, Finn, Karé and Iolo. The others he had seen… if they had been caught up in the explosions like they said, they were long gone. He would never know them.

But somehow, the four rebel fighters, along with their little astromech, had made it to him. Barely in one piece, but alive. There had to be deeper meaning… He’d seen them for so long and now here they were, solid, real. Surely it wasn’t up to him to show Finn the path to the Force?

Ira Nyx had only ever known the Force. He couldn’t remember a time before he was a youngling, or a home before the Jedi temple on Coruscant. His memories began there, tiny feet squeaking across shiny marble floors, clumsily chasing after training remotes. He was raised to wield the Force for good. He knew no other way—any temptation had been bred out of him. Finn’s upbringing was the opposite. Finn was raised to be a soldier for the dark side. There was no room for interpretation, meditation or unity.

The fear in Finn swelled like a tidal wave when there was a shift in the Force in any significant way. It not only confused, but terrified him. No doubt, it was getting harder to ignore. Impossible to ignore after a certain point. Ira knew it well. It was where his visions came from. He’d had them since he was a youngling, and the same destabilizing result if he tried to close himself off to them.

There was a longing in Finn. For a guiding light. At his core, Finn didn’t believe he could be that for himself, it must come from an exterior source—Ira knew that well, too. The feeling had plagued his early padawan years. Then, his full connection to the Force had always felt just out of reach—like a ship without a compass, off kilter, listing aimlessly through space.

To some, particularly those who weren’t sensitive to it, the Force could feel like an exterior source. Some frightening power that precariously toed the line between light and dark at any given moment. It wasn’t this… mystical thing. It was simply energy. Energy connecting living things to one another, in every form. The ground you stand on. The beat of your heart; the beat of another’s. To those who were Force-sensitive, this energy was palpable, malleable, could be shaped in many different ways. At best, it could be used to repair what was broken—objects and beings alike. At worst… the much more iniquitous possibilities were endless.

Finn was acutely aware of the Force. With the release of that intense fear, with patience and training, he would learn to wield the Force with great skill. He had, after all, managed an energy transfer to his partner without even knowing it. Finn had managed to take some of Poe’s pain away, but in doing so, had also, for a brief period of time, masked the severity of Poe’s injuries until they were too substantial to ignore.

Ira Nyx had watched and lived through every one of his friends and the people he loved most die, violently murdered. He escaped the massacre of the Jedi Order by cowardice alone—you could call it exile, but really… He had fled. Ignored the calls of those in pain, in need, in danger, though he heard them. Left to die those he could have saved. Turned his back on any living thing outside of himself. There were days the remorse stole the breath from his lungs. Kept him awake at night. He was so very tired. The kind of soul-deep weariness that was too late to fix. No long night’s sleep or time spent like some carefree vacationer in the suns of Iloh could fix it. He found out by accident that the Empire had fallen, on a rare supply run into Garel City. He paid close attention, from then on, watching as the galaxy stumbled into a semblance of democracy… only to have it annihilated by the First Order.

From the doorway, Ira watched the last embers in the hearth go dark and cold. He took in the humble bed in the corner, the little rickety table and chairs he had built with his bare hands. Then he dropped the tattered cloth over the doorway one last time, and left without looking back.

* * *

Garel City was significantly larger and busier than Kothal, which made some things easier, and others more difficult. They lost their way several times picking through the dark alleys, underpasses and lesser traveled routes to stay out of sight, but blended in perfectly, the beige and brown of their borrowed garb (Ira’s—rolled multiple times at the sleeves) coalescing with the swarms that milled about their daily tasks and errands.

The spaceport loomed ahead, like a dome flipped on its convex top. Shuttles departed every few minutes, lifting out of the durasteel crater and jetting up into the atmosphere. As they approached, flanking the wall of the alley steps that led into the spaceport’s underbelly, they found Ira was right—it really was crawling with troopers, like lines of angry little white ants filing up and down alleys and docking stations, hassling random travelers for their transit papers and identification cards.

Several hangars surrounded the open air area of the spaceport, disappearing under the lip of the structure. Poe’s heart sank as he scanned the maze. Then, Finn nudged him and pointed.

To their left, four doors down, was 71-C. They waited for the pack of troopers to walk the opposite direction, then pelted across the open space and into the shadows of hangar 71-C.

It was close to empty, two decaying land-speeders parked to their right by the entrance, and a few other ships scattered through, covered with dusty tarps.

“Hey!” A mechanized shout came from the hangar bay door. Poe and Finn threw themselves behind the speeders, BB-8 dimming all his lights. Karé and Iolo followed.

An anguished Mythrol in ragged travel clothes bolted past the mouth of the hangar, followed by four troopers in pursuit. The sounds receded.

Poe nodded to the group. “Let’s get this over with.”

There was an electric hum, and the cold, metal touch of a blaster against his temple. “You’ve got five seconds to scram before I put a hole through your brain.”

Poe slowly raised both hands, and caught a flash of Finn doing the same in his peripherals. BB-8 squawked.

“Okay, easy. Are you Jem Cade?”

“Three seconds.”

“Ira Nyx sent us.”

The blaster faltered. Poe could have grabbed it. Maybe he should have, but they needed this bridge unburned for the time being.

“What did you say?”

“Ira Nyx. Told us you had a ship.”

The blaster came down. “Who the hell are you?”

With a cloud of black hair curled into tight coils and ochre skin, Jem Cade was tall and athletic, with a soldier’s ready stance. Her blaster remained unholstered.

Poe slowly lowered his hands. “We’re with the Resistance.”

One of Cade’s eyebrows popped up. “You lot are still alive and kicking, huh?”

“Our ship wrecked outside of town. Ira helped us. Said you might have a ship with cloaking capabilities we could put to good use.”

Cade finally holstered her blaster with a heavy sigh.

“Of all places to wreck a ship. That old man is a kriffing disaster magnet for someone trying to stay off the radar. He also is damn sure lucky I owe him one. Follow me.”

Up close, the ship was a giant bucket of rust. Probably had spent decades idle in here, but had remained successfully hidden from the Empire, then the First Order, to have made it this far.

Jem Cade lovingly patted the hull. “Here she is. Got a lot of history, this one. Completely undetectable, too.”

Poe marveled at the size. A G1-A Starfighter. More than a little worse for wear, but Poe had never seen one in person and a grin tugged at his lips. Things were looking up. His legs itched to jump into the pilot’s seat.

BB-8 yelped.

“What is it, buddy?”

“YOU! Stop right there!” Troopers. Nine of them filled the mouth of the hangar, blaster rifles leveled right at them.

“Blast it! Last time I’m doing that old wizard a favor!” Jem backed away.

Maybe it wasn’t too late—Poe jerked his head at BB-8, who slid out of sight behind the starfighter. The troopers descended on them, each grabbing hold of an arm. None seemed to have noticed BB-8.

“Now, what exactly are you doing in here?” The ninth trooper, squad leader judging by the white shoulder pauldron, stood before the group.

Poe looked the squad leader up and down; a challenge. “You guys really got the short end of the stick, didn’t you?”

“QUIET!” The trooper slammed the stock of his rifle into Poe’s gut and the ensuing shouts and scuffle dissolved into the roar in his ears as his knees dropped out from under him.

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