One of the better ones because it’s really more about the people (there’s little to no action at all.)
-You get the first acknowledgement about what happened to Carrie Fisher. Leia admits she won’t be around forever:
-Leia is great here. Especially when you realize she might be trying to make up for the mistakes she made with Kylo by towing a firm line with Poe.
-And I could be wrong, but doesn’t Jess seem to have a bit of a crush on Poe? She was a bit too eager to hug him after the funeral, if you know what I mean.
-I’m still not crazy about Terex as a villain, frankly. He’s still…eh, dull? And not even that competent (”I have C3P0′s chip! I can take down the Resistance!” “We checked the chip. It doesn’t work.”) No wonder Phasma is pissed off.
-Even his reasons for loving the First Order are routine and a simple rehash of what we have heard before (”People can’t be trusted with their own lives!”)
-The Oddy Muva story is interesting. He was a traitor….sort of. He did do the right thing at the end, but the fact that him and the wife took off tells you he knows fine well he’s in some deep crap and is a coward.
shupokawaii asked:I would like to request a Poe Dameron imagine because I am such Poe trash. It could be anything, honestly, but could he be involved with some female (that preferably isn’t Rey?) He could also be paired with Finn, I’m also stormpilot trash. Thanks!
Anon asked: Can I ask for a Poe Dameron imagine? Leia and Hans daughter( Kylo-Ren twin sister) is fighting longside her mother ,she’s very stern and closed off, but Poe is willing to sacrifice anything for her
Anon asked: Can I ask for a Poe Dameron imagine? YN is the best engineer f the resistence (she’s the one who made BB-8) and he’s in love with her. He only admits after coming back
A/N: cha chas real smooth back to this blog three months late with a fic over 4.5k long
“Dameron! Are you in flying condition?” Barging into the medical bay, your voice was more of a bark as you sought out Poe. The man in question looked expectantly towards you from where he propped himself up on his elbows, lying across an examination table.
“For you? Always.” His response was smooth and effortless, lazy grin on his face eliciting a groan of frustration from you. The droid stationed to watch over him all but quivered beneath your hard gaze.
“How long until whatever… this is,” you waved your hand in Poe’s general direction, “wears off.” Droids weren’t known for their hesitation, however there was something about you that consistently unnerved the Resistance’s medical droids, and this one in particular whirred uncertainly before emitting a series of beeps that roughly translated to ‘that’s just how he is’. You cleared your throat, whistling sharply in a passable, if basic, version of droidspeak that the droid in question nodded at, scuttling away and leaving you and Poe in peace.
“What did you tell him?” His fingers curled at your hip as he pulled you close, fingers drawing small circles against the small of your back. He knew full well what you had said to the droid, but the way he smile and the warmth of his touch eased something in your chest.
“I can take care of you myself.” Voice a quiet murmur, your fingertips ghost across his face and through his hair, eyes zeroing in on the careful stitching and sticky residue of the bacta patches.
“You always do.” His voice is equally soft and you lean into his touch, finger absentmindedly carding through his hair. Stay like that for barely a moment, you allow yourself time to breathe, the two of you taking comfort in each other’s company before the horror of reality crept in once more. “So what do you need me to do, Admiral?” Poe’s voice was sharp, cutting through the silence as you retracted your hand, schooling your face into it’s usual, stony expression.
“GA-97 has radioed in; BeeBee is on Takodana.” The way his face lit up at those simple words made you suppress a grin of your own. His joy was infectious. “Your X-Wing is being refueled and I’ve assigned BB-2 to be your copilot.” Poe’s lack of emotional filter was a source of great joy to you, his face scrunching up in distaste. “They’re an older model,” you conceded, “but no less reliable, you’ll be back with BeeBee soon enough.” There was a hint of annoyance in your voice, everyone and their droid knew that BB-8 was Poe’s favourite - BB-8 was everyone’s favourite - but you had single-handedly built most of the BB Units from scratch and felt guilty playing favourites.
“I’m guessing it’s not all good news.” Poe knew how you felt about your droids, trying - and failing - to look apologetic. You couldn’t begrudge him for his love of BB-8, just knowing the droid was in safe hands meant you slept well at night, and that was the priority now - the droid, not your sleep schedule.
“Leia and I will be picking up BeeBee,” tone grave, you avoided looking directly at him, worried that keeping him from BB-8 would only serve to disappoint him, “you won’t be able to see them until we get back to base.” Voice low and quiet, you were startled when a hand reached up to pat at your cheek fondly.
“At least they’re in good hands.” There was no disappointment, nor a shred of negativity in the pilot’s gaze as he regarded you with an expression almost akin to amusement. With a goodnatured sigh, you pulled Poe to his feet.
“Your squad is waiting.” You informed him, shooting for somewhat commanding, or even just neutral. Poe nodded sincerely, and the two of you chattered away about potential upgrades for your little droid until you arrived at the hangar. Leia was already beckoning you to the transport freighter when you arrived, Poe gave her a salute before leaving to change into his flight suit.
“Take care of the General!” With his voice close enough to a sing-song that you knew he was joking, he couldn’t help but flashing his winning grin at the General herself. She humoured him with an eyeroll, but didn’t miss your sour expression as you boarded the ship beside her.
“I should be going with them.” Voice an angry hiss, you gestured flippantly to where the X-Wings were preparing for takeoff. Leia sighed deeply before rounding on you.
“I’ve received word that the First Order is already there.” She held up a hand, silencing your protests before you even had time to voice them. “And so is Han.” Stunned into silence, it took a moment for you to respond.
“Dad?” Little more than a dull murmur of the word had Leia nodding, murmuring something about how he missed you as she lay a supportive hand on your arm. Jerking out of her grip, you couldn’t deny the pang of longing that settled deep in your chest, even as your face morphed into a mask of discontent.
To you, Leia had always just been ‘Leia’ or, in more formal situations, ‘The General’, never ‘mom’, and while you could admit that your life was littered with emotional hangups due to a childhood that was equally distant and intense, even life-threatening at times, Han had always been ‘dad’, even when he left, even as your sense of abandonment crystallized into resentment.
“That doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him.” You told her, avoiding her gaze, watching her nod with her small smile of understanding. The flight to Takodana was eerily quiet, but mercifully short, and it was only as you were landing that you finally chanced a look out the window. Castle little more than a pile of rubble, the corpses of Stormtroopers littered around, it made a devastating sight to behold. Heart in your throat, you were suddenly flooded with memories of Han sneaking you into the Cantina, helping Maz serve drinks when the Resistance was in danger and you had to be hidden away, a life you dreamed of having where the worst thing to happen was a bar fight where someone loses an arm. If your eyes are damp, Leia has the grace to ignore it.
It’s with a hiss that the doors of the shuttle open, Leia shooting a thankful glance as you stood by her side, and the two of you are bathed in the warm glow of Takodana’s afternoon sun. The recovery team springs into action, the first out of the doors they begin clearing away debris, however it’s the sight of the three people waiting quietly in the sunlight that makes your chest feel tight. Leia takes the first step towards them, with eyes only for Han, but you follow without hesitation and there’s pride in his gaze when he catches sight of you. Even so, it’s clear that he and your mother are having a ‘moment’ so you move to embrace Chewbacca. There’s something so familiar about the way he roars in your ear, so affectionate and welcoming, it feels like coming home.
From down by your ankles comes an insistent, excited whistling, and you can feel your heart lift. You can hear C3P0’s babbling, tactless greeting to your father, but your droid is recounting it’s own daring, galaxy crossing journey and you can’t help but listen and beam like the adoring parent you not so secretly are.
“You’ve grown.” With a familiar voice to your right, BB-8’s chirping quiets. They roll hesitantly back and forth as you stand from your crouch to turn and face the man who belongs to the voice.
“Han.” Voice carefully neutral, you hope your expression reads as something similar. Evidently it does as his own face falls.
“I understand how it is.” He dips his head into a dejected nod and you sigh, breaking the cool distance between you with a step forward, face softening.
“Dad.” You conceded, and Han’s smile, while not blinding, did make your heart lift in spite of yourself. He wrapped you in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I’ve missed you, peanut.” He murmured, and though he sounded truly sincere, there was obviously something else on his mind. He avoided your curious gaze, knowing you could sense it. Looking instead to your mother, she simply shook her head sadly.
“Who are you?” As you stepped out from your father’s embrace, you rounded on the man somewhat hidden behind your father, your tone clipped.
“Finn.” His name came out a stammer, clearly taken aback by your abruptness. It was followed by tense silence as your eyes scanned him over, zeroing in on the jacket he wore. Poe’s jacket. Your gaze snapped to the droid by your feet.
“You trust him?” You raised an eyebrow at BB-8, ignoring Han’s indignant scoff that you hadn’t asked his opinion, listening instead to the droid’s begrudging confirmation of Finn’s trustworthiness. “Welcome, Finn, I’m [Y/N].” Holding out your hand, you waited for Finn to shake it nervously.
“This is what a big deal looks like.” Han smirked at Finn from behind him, words laced with some hidden meaning that evaded you. Finn, however, ducked his head out of embarrassment, making his way aboard the transport freighter at Leia’s insistence. Han and Chewbacca made a beeline for the Falcon, but not before your father turned to you, face conflicted as he rests an uncertain hand upon your shoulder. “I saw Ben.” He murmured, and your blood runs cold.
“No, you didn’t.” You snap in a knee-jerk reaction. “My brother’s not a murderer; my brother’s dead.” And though your reply was cold, you couldn’t bare to look your father in the eyes as you headed quickly back to the transport freighter waiting close by.
“You could have been kinder to him.” Leia’s quiet words fill you with guilt, though your gaze was as cold as ice when you turn back to her, determined.
He was the one who left. Not me, not you, it was Ben and it was Han.“ Scowling, you notice her expression mirrors your own, but her voice comes out a harsh snarl at your allegations.
“Do not blame your father for Snoke’s deception.” She reprimanded, and on cue, a shudder of horror passed through your body at his very mention. Filled with shame, you allow her to continue, your head bowed as the ship doors close and people ready for takeoff. “We had to make difficult choices; I blame myself for your brother’s betrayal, I was the one who insisted he trained with Luke, and I regret it every day.” There was a moment of stillness as she closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. “I will never regret keeping you by my side; we’ve always been there for each other, [Y/N].”
“I was a child and you commanded an army.” You snapped, leaving her in the common area, heading, with a huff, for your workshop upon the freighter that had been cobbled together for last-minute droid repairs. BB-8 was waiting patiently for you, babbling to themself, but greeting you with an enthusiastic call of ‘Mumma!’, as they often did, or as close as they could get in binary. With an indulgently warm smile you asked to hear about their daring escape, prompting them to treat you to a lively recount of all the events since the raid of the village on Jakku and Poe’s capture. Something in your brain stalled at the mention of Ben, and the little droid gave you a moment to collect yourself.
Upon landing on D’Qar, yourself and BB-8 were whisked away to an important meeting where the little droid handed over an ancient looking data storage unit, the reason that this had all began, back on Jakku. They rolled nervously back and forth by your side as the information on the device - the map to Luke Skywalker - was projected for the whole room to see. It surely looked impressive at first glance, but with each passing moment, more flaws arose, and there was a nervous feeling beginning to curl in the pit of your stomach. The map was small, barely a segment, littered with planets that were frankly unheard of. Part of you was interested, you couldn’t not be; he was family, after all, however most of you, was livid at the realisation that Poe had been tortured, had almost died for something so useless.
Leia had begun planning an attack on Starkiller Base at the realisation that the First Order could very well have both this segment and the rest, therefore rendering it useful, so you divided your time between planning the attack from your mother’s side, and checking BB-8 for any major damage.
The meeting adjourned with the attack outline firmly in place, and you had determined that BB-8 was mostly sand-free, but needed a few wires replaced, and agreed to come to your workshop. After your mother’s dismissal, the two of you made your way across base, route leading you conveniently through the X-Wing hangar. BB-8 drooped at little, but assured you they were fine, however at the sight of Black One landing, the little droid trilled as loudly and excitedly as their little speakers could manage, rolling at a truly impressive rate to bowl Finn out of the way to greet Poe as he exited the ship.
Finn froze at the sight of Poe, and the way Poe bounds to hug him would lead people to believe that they had been parted for decades rather than mere days, or as though they had known each other for a lifetime. You were well aware that the jealousy you felt was unreasonable, Poe was friends with everyone, your friendship was nothing special. Even so, your heart flipped as Poe shot you a sunny grin. You returned the grin weakly, calling to the little astromech at his feet. BB-8 agreed to follow you to your workshop, but only after extracting another hug from their pilot.
The droid burbled to themselves excitedly, their chips translating into a repetitive string of excited phrases along the lines of ‘Dad’s alive! He’s safe! He’s happy! Dad’s alive!’ and you suddenly found yourself overwhelmed at the notion that the little BB-Unit by your side had spent the last two days believing that Poe had died in the TIE fighter crash. Overcome with the desire to hold the BB unit close, they trilled happily in your embrace.
“I’m glad he’s safe too,” you find yourself admitting, “and I shouldn’t be jealous of Finn.” BB-8 tipped their head to the side, confused. “Finn and Poe,” you clarified, flushing despite yourself, “but I should tell Poe how I feel.” At BB-8’s questing beeps, you relented, “I do enjoy his company, BeeBee, I just… I don’t know how to say that.” The droid whirs knowingly, but you don’t feel any better for talking it through.
The workshop had always felt more like your home than the barracks ever could, you had even dragged in a cot and cooling unit to make it more homely, and you were consistently thankful for it’s adjoining bathroom, even though it was little more than a shower and toilet. The workbench itself had been furnished with an impressive array of tools, including a terminal that you quickly hooked BB-8 to for a full systems analysis.
“I can always count on you to steal my droid.” At the sound of someone at your door, you looked up from where you were halfway through replacing the flint in BB-8’s welding torch. Realising that it was simply Poe, you rolled your eyes and went on with your job. His tone was affectionate, as was the smile he’s giving you, leaning casually in your doorframe, gaze ghosting from you to the droid and back again.
“My droid.” You corrected, but their was no sting, and though you found yourself drawn into the process of repairing the BB-unit, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. The droid looked from you to Poe expectantly, but you did little more than nudge them over to get at the panel hiding their frayed wires.
“I’ve always loved how focused you get with BeeBee; there’s something mesmerising about it.” His voice is warm and kind, he speaks like that around you a lot and you try not to think too hard about how happy his voice makes you.
“Is there something you needed, Dameron?” You settle on, tone impatient but not unkind, blushing deeply and hoping he can’t see it. There’s a pause and you turn to see him watching you through narrowed eyes.
“You know you can call me Poe, even the droids do.” He insisted, amused. It was clear that you hadn’t been expecting this, and he smirked at your surprise.
“I- I’m not a droid now, am I, Dameron?” Though your voice was sharp as you tried to cover your initial surprise, you couldn’t help your slight stammer, nor the heat creeping up your neck once more. Poe was right, everyone called him Dameron, this… well it made you feel special. Poe shook his head, sighing exasperatedly.
“The General’s finished planning the assault on Starkiller Base; will you be flying with me?” His cheeks turned an entertaining shade of red and added, “with Red Squadron, I mean?” Suddenly it was your turn to be surprised, shocked at his forwardness, before nodding.
“There’s no-one I’d rather follow into battle.” You replied, dryly, though your smile was genuine. Poe’s eyes were sparkling with amusement.
“Your rank doesn’t change in an X-Wing.” He assured you with a chuckle, but you looked away turning your attention back to BB-8’s exposed wiring.
“And you’re still the best pilot in the Resistance.” You told him, seriously. “Rank does not equal skill.” But he could see the fond smile you wore, and kept his own tone playful.
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He clapped his hand over his heart in mock adoration. You clenched your jaw as a pang of guilt shot through you. Though it sounded like he was joking, you quietly worried if he was telling the truth and you were left with the distinct impression that you were ungrateful.
“Don’t let it go to your head.” You fired off a gut response, leaving your brain to silently work through your feelings. Poe didn’t seem too hurt by it, and he snorted, shaking his head. With a snap, you closed the panel on the repaired BB unit, and screwed it closed. Now fully alert, BB-8 looked from yourself to Poe, before nudging your leg softly. Mouth suddenly feeling very dry, you nodded to the little droid before turning to Poe. “I’m sorry about what Ben did to you.” Are not the words you thought would come out of your mouth, but Poe’s expression softens and you don’t regret your words.
BB-8, seemingly thrilled that their plan was working, chirped excitedly before bumping into Poe’s leg insistently and then rolling away, as subtle as a blimp.
“It’s not your fault, [Y/N].” Poe assured you. Even though it had been orchestrated by the droid that you had built, it felt real and it felt right as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.
“I know…” You mused against his shoulder, “but if he’s not going to apologise then someone should.” There’s something safe, comforting about the way you could wrap your arms around him with your chin tucked on his shoulder. His heartbeat was steady, if not quick against your chest. “I’m so glad you’re alive.” Voice a whisper, it was painful to think about what would have happened if Finn hadn’t saved him… you owned that man a lot. As you pull away from one another, Poe looks as though he’s on the verge of saying something more, but Snap chose that time to poke his head around the door, smiling knowingly and calling for the two of you to come to the debriefing.
“We should go before the Leia gets antsy.” You told him quickly, and he agreed with the same sentiment, cheeks pink. The way he had looked at you, with such trust, such love, it filled you with a warmth that stayed with you even as you listened to your mother explain the finer details of the destroying the base. During the meeting, your gaze is drawn towards Finn as he watches Poe intently, expression serious, focused. The team received their orders, but as the General dismisses her troops, you find yourself calling to the ex-Stormtrooper.
“Finn, may I have a word?” Voice was quiet as the meeting broke up, he frowned at you curious, as was Poe, though you waved the latter off. “You saved him. You saved Poe.” Never one to mince words, Finn appreciated your ability to be direct, and dipped his head in recognition, even as he was still confused. “For that, you have earned my respect, as well as a place within the Resistance.”
“You- you can do that?” He asked, suddenly doubtful. Your mind flashed to your earlier encounter, and a pained look crossed your face. You were so used to downplaying your involvement in the Resistance, because of your attachment to your parents’ legacy and to Ben’s actions, but you felt no need to lie.
“I’m an admiral, and General Organa’s… successor.” Which was true, even if it wasn’t the whole truth, and there was something reverent in the way Finn now regarded you. Of course he knew about General Organa, everyone did, but despite this, you had been determined to make your way through the chain of command on your own merits, despite the vicious lies some circles of the Resistance were prone to spreading. You hesitated for a beat before hugging Finn tightly. “Thank you for saving him.” Murmuring quietly, you hoped Finn could tell how much Poe’s safety and happiness meant to you. It seemed he could as Finn gingerly hugged you back, tight enough that it felt reassuring, and the two of you parted ways.
The astromech assigned to your X-Wing was one that you had rebuilt yourself, designated as R2-I8, though they were far more introverted than BB-8, most everyone found them to be an incredibly competent copilot, and you were no different. The droid greeted you as warmly as it could, closely supervising as one of the crew finished refueling your ship as others raced about, completing final checks and preparing for takeoff.
“Peanut!” It was your father’s voice behind you, pride written all over his face as he took in the sight of his daughter wearing a flightsuit. You reminded him so much of Luke it was almost painful, though he kept that thought to himself. The breath that you managed was shaky, and you kept your expression blank. “You look so grown up.”
“A lot’s happened since you left.” You murmured. He smiled sadly in the silence, clapping his hand on your shoulders before he pulled you in for a hug, patting your back comfortingly.
“I know.” He assured quietly as he held you tightly. He had never been much of a father to you, always on some adventure or another, but he had always cared, and he had always loved you. “Take care of yourself.” He murmured, and he pretend not to notice the tears glimmering in your eyes.
“Don’t… don’t do anything stup-” you tried to form a sentence, but were unable to get the words from your mouth. Shaking your head with a sigh, you wiped away the tears that threatened to roll down your cheeks. “You too, dad.” Voice a mumble, your father nodded resolutely, clapping you on your shoulder. He watched with pride as you climb into the cockpit of your X-Wing, giving you a salute before heading to the Millennium Falcon. There’s something so familiar about watching him leave that it makes your chest hurt, but you don’t think about it.
Once in the air, the comlink crackled to life, and Poe’s voice was in your ear, “All ‘Wings report in.” Poe’s familiar commands filled you with a sense of familiarity as the red and blue squadrons began answering on cue.
“Red Leader, standing by.” You reported. Anxiety crept in as you were met with a moment of silence over the comlinks, , and there was a moment of silence before anyone else spoke.
“Black Leader, who’s flying Red One.” It was Jessika Pava asking, and you could hear the smile in her words. The two of you had always gotten along fairly well, and she was always happy to being flying alongside her. To hear her excitement simply from hearing your voice, you could feel your heart swell.
“That would be our very own admiral; [Y/N].” The pride in Poe’s voice was almost tangible and it made you all but beam in response.
“Good to have you back, ma’am.” Jessika announced, to which you chuckled. The brief hostility that you had felt after announcing yourself had melted away into the strong camaraderie between X-Wing pilots that made you feel as though you this was where you belonged, as though this was home.
“Hey, Admiral.” To your surprise, Poe had commed you directly, making sure the other pilots were on a separate frequency before he spoke.
“Yes, Dameron?” You asked, voice light, lighter than it had been in months. Whether it was adrenaline or simple excitement, everything just felt right.
“Just in case things go south here,” he paused, long enough for you to interject that they wouldn’t; he waved it off, “just in case,” he insisted, “I want you to know that I love you.” There was a pause and you could feel your breath catch in your throat. “Admiral?” Poe, usually so calm and confident, was nervous.
“I love you too, Poe,” at your words, you could hear him breath an audible sigh of relief, which only served to make you grin. “I’m sorry if I made you think anything different.” There was a long pause, and Poe made a thoughtful noise before answering.
“No, I knew.” He admitted, voice understanding, “Growing up in the Resistance is tough; you knew that better than anybody. Between all the political intrigue and people assuming your power was merely a birthright rather than something you earned, well it can be hard to trust someone. I’m glad you trust me.”
“There’s no-one I’d rather topple the First Order with.” You chuckled, but your voice was sincere, and a warmth spreads from your heart like nothing you’d ever felt before. Then it’s all over, and Poe gets a message from Finn and you all make the jump to hyperspace.
The attack on Starkiller Base begins and ends within half an hour, and something else ends, something much more serious, but you can’t put your finger on it, but you can feel it the moment it happens. It seems as though something’s gone very wrong, there’s more exploding X-Wings than TIE fighters, and Jessika’s screaming down the com, but she’s alive when it seems that so many aren’t…
And then Chewbacca returns without your father. And you return without half your squadron. People are celebrating, but there are also more empty spaces than there are X-Wings in the hangar and your mother is crying like you haven’t seen her do in years. The Resistance has survived to fight another day, but at what cost?
You survived. Poe survived. You won, but it doesn’t feel like a victory.
Anon asked: Hi! Well, I’m a hoe for Poe, so- I’m wondering if you could do something with a mix of drama and fluff. Maybe the reader is upset with him for getting captured and blowing himself up, but reluctant to admit all those feelings? Keep it sassy! Thanks!!
Anon asked: Please write a Poe imagine! (Maybe something where you see him alive for the first time after the mission like Finn?)
A/N: Honestly, this could be about half as long and still fill the prompts, but where’s the fun in that? Spoilers, beware.
General Organa had been hunched over one of the consoles in the War Room; the fact that she didn’t even look up when you entered could hardly be a good sign. With a heavy sigh she looked to you, speaking three words that stopped you in your tracks.
“Dameron’s been captured.” Frozen, you’re not certain of what to say or how to react as General Organa tries to give you further details. Her voice is a low hum in the back of your mind, something about the First Order that you can’t really make sense of right now. Overcoming your instinct to make a sarcastic remark or roll your eyes was easier said then done, but there was a time and a place for all things, and now wasn’t it. A sick joke like this wasn’t the General’s style; Poe really had been captured.
Shock. Shock was the first real emotion to register. Shock, then a gut-wrenching sense of loss, followed by a haze of confusion. Slowly thawing out, your eyes refocused on the woman before you, looking at you with pity in her eyes.
“Wh-” Blinking a few times to try and bring yourself back into the moment, you took a shuddering breath in to continue, “why did you ask to see me, General?” It wasn’t difficult to tell that your calm demeanour was fading fast, heart rate climbing, the tell-tale burn of tears in your eyes. But General Organa could see you were trying - maker, how you were trying - and straightened to her full height, looking you in the eye, trying to remain calm but compassionate as she chose her next words carefully.
“I was aware that you and Dameron were close-” the knowing tone of her voice was enough to make you splutter to defend yourself, though you weren’t sure why. You and Poe were close, best friends even, but with the incessent gossiping of your teammates, the way they all suggested that there was something more when there definitely wasn’t. The General raised one eyebrow, crossing her arms impatiently and you took that as your queue to stop talking, your mouth snapping shut, feeling vaguely ashamed. “And it is for that reason we would like you to retrieve his BB unit.”
An image of the little orange and white droid flashed into your mind, thought seemed that your mouth worked faster as you babbled out, “but surely if BB-8 is still operational then Poe-” Leia placed a hand on yours, you hadn’t even realised you were waving it around until she did, and despite the gesture, her tone was formal. You hadn’t expected anything less.
“C3P0 informed me that BB-8 has still been reporting consistently from Jakku; they’re the reason we known about Dameron’s current state.” Heart sinking with every word, she continued. “We have reason to believe that he stored important information on the droid. I am trusting you to find and secure it.” She promptly dismissed you after you nodded in confirmation.
Everything self cold, so very cold; you couldn’t bring yourself to believe her, not fully. Since the two of you had joined the Resistance, you and Poe had been inseparable, you’d trained together, fought together, flew together. You were there then he first met General Organa with stars in his eyes. There was no-one you knew quite so well as Poe, and to have him just gone? It all felt very surreal.
You punched into the coordinates to Jakku as if you didn’t already know the route by heart, each movement agonisingly slow, despite the feelings of your brain being swamped in fog. Your droid beeped impatiently at you as you turned off your comlink, letting it sit dormant in your pocket. What was even the point of it? The only people who used your frequency with any sort of consistency were General Organa and Poe.
It’s second nature at this point, out-manoeuvring TIE-Fighters. It’s not surprise that you feel upon seeing them, its the dull sense of inevitability. What little TIE-Fighters there are seem to be distracted with one of their own, possibly a defect, you consider. Good for them. Preferring to steer clear of the whole scene, you’re over the horizon before seeing the defect’s fate. Despite this, you caught yourself circling Jakku for a third time and by now the TIE-Fighters have seemingly eased off, something you think you would have been thankful for if you had been paying attention.
Landing was rough, much rougher than usual, nothing but sand and sky for miles. Head in your hands, you try to come to grips with the situation, whether you’re there for a moment or an hour, you’re not certain, but somehow you feel as though your cockpit is a safe space. You still feel hollow.
Beeping angrily, your droid reminds you to pick up your comlink before leaving, whirring something about the General that doesn’t exactly translate.
“We have reports that Dameron has escaped on a stolen TIE-Fighter and is headed back towards Jakku!” It’s C3P0′s voice that crackles through the comlink and you stop for a minute to listen. He’s repeating it on a loop, as if waiting for a confirmation from you. What confirmation you can give is weak, stomach lurching at the now very obvious plumes of smoke rising from beyond the nearest sand dune.
The TIE-Fighter wasn’t a defector, it was Poe. It’s not a comforting thought at the sight of the smoke. Somehow, you know it’s his, and now you can see it as you stand on top the dune, a burning wreckage, with no sign of Poe and no sign of BB-8. Someone approaches it, someone you’ve never seen, pulling Poe’s jacket from the wreckage before the whole ship sinks, along with your whole heart. You yell at them, scream obscenities, threats you could never follow through on, but they run, terrified, still clutching the jacket.
There’s a Teedo and his luggabeast scouring your ship for loose parts, but simply aiming your blaster at him causes the two of them to go shrieking into the desert. It takes you several moments after climbing back into your cockpit for you to align all of your thoughts.
“Have you received any updates as to BB-8′s whereabouts?” You squeezed your eyes closed as you began your comlink transmission, warring within yourself as to whether you should report what you had seen. You could barely process this reality, the fact that you had seen Poe’s crashed TIE-Fighter sink into the desert with him still aboard.
“No, I’m afraid their tracking device is non-operational as of late, I believe Mr Dameron made an upgrade and forgot to inform us.” It’s C3P0 jabbering on again, and you decide to keep quiet about your discovery, to complete your mission and deliver the news in person.
You scour the planet for the little droid, barely sleeping over the next few days, finding yourself weaving in and out of back alley information dealings, doing nothing more than searching for BB-8 and hoping for a transmission from the Resistance. Every time you thought you had been closer to an answer, a location, a name, the First Order troops begin to swarm the city and it’s all you can do to stay out of their way and get back to your X-Wing. Sometimes you follow the Stormtroopers, hoping to find a lead, to try and remain one step ahead of them, but it proves to be useless; they know as little as you do. Poe was on a highly classified mission, if he was taken by the Order, they’re probably looking for the same thing as you.
Dusk on the second day brought you the transmission you had hoped to recieve. It’s garbled, but you’re also standing in the lifeless shell of an AT-AT.
“BB-8,” It’s difficult to make out the General’s words as you head to the exit. It’s mostly strings of static. “Maz…. Takodana…. Return….. Secure…..” In a flash you’re outside, but the transmission has gone dead.
“What?! What’s happening?! General, please!” You yelled, heart thundering in your chest, trying to connect the words and coming up blank. The silence that followed was possibly the most tense of your life, but eventually you recieve a response.
“There has been a report from Takodana that BB-8 is secure and on it’s way back to us right now. You are advised to return to Base at once.” You had never been so glad to hear C3P0′s cold, clipped tone. Despite the way your chest eased at the news, you couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by a sense of disappointment. After everything you had endured, you hoped some small success would come in the form of your mission, but no, it appears someone has scavenged that, too.
The flight back to the Resistance base was spent ruminating in silence, your droid giving a beep of solidarity when you informed them of what had happened. With shaking hands you removed your pilot uniform, head swarming with thoughts and feelings that all seemed to sing the same tune. Poe. Poe. Poe. He was gone. He was gone. There was a void in your heart where your best friend would be, sucking away all the trust you had given him, all the- all the love that you felt towards him. You felt as if you had no-one. You felt empty.
Your quarters became your sanctuary until nightfall, prefering to spend your time alone with your thoughts, glassy-eyed gaze fixed on the ceiling in the peace of your own room, away from prying eyes and gossiping pilots. You emerged only at the behest of General Organa, who had called you into the War Room. There, standing with Han Solo and the General, was the Scavenger from Jakku, the one who had stolen Poe’s jacket. And now he was wearing it.
It took him only a moment to recognise you, but you could see the fear in his eyes when it clicked. It was too late anyway. “Who the hell do you think you are?!” You roared as you lunged at him, not giving him time to react to both as you yanked him by the collar of his black shirt, avoiding the jacket as best you could.
“Finn?” He asked, terrified and unsure.
“Finn?” You snarled the name with disgust, “Do usually steal from dead guys, Finn?” You snapped, he spluttered for an answer, but couldn’t articulate one, avoiding your gaze and looking to Han for help. Han simply shrugged, looking vaguely amused.
“[Y/N], let go of him.” It was the General’s quiet but firm voice that had you shoving Finn away, knuckles clenched tightly by your sides. You could feel the beginnings of a tear in your eye but you refused to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you cry, wiping it away bitterly.
“He’s wearing Poe’s jacket.” You spat, gaze fixed on the flood. Finn made a noise of protest and you looked up to glare at him as Han told him to keep quiet.
“That’s not important right now.” The General said, herself glaring at Han, before her gaze turned to you. It was as if she was issuing you a challenge, whether or not you could let this go. You tilted your chin up, meeting her gaze and resolutely not looking at Finn.
Both Finn and Han were dismissed, allowing yourself and the General to modify the plan of attack on Starkiller Base. The basic outline had been laid by another pilot, but you didn’t bother to ask who. You were grateful for the task, if only to keep your mind off of things. As the conversation began to lull, the General offered you a day of rest, which you refused. If there was something to be done, you wanted to be a part of it, you needed to be a part of it. She dismissed you, that look of pity in her eyes tinted with something knowing, but it was gone before you could complain and she was muttering about how she’d bring in another officer to look it the plan and relay the final details.
The last thing you wanted to do was to look at your X-Wing, or any of them for that matter, but you new you couldn’t just stop, just give up, so you went about your work as best as you could, refuelling and checking for missing wires or fuses, anything the Teedo might have escaped with.
Out of the corner of your eye you catch a familiar movement, something you thought you had lost. You froze. It had to be a ghost, you thought, but no, there, in broad daylight, lazy grin on his face as he chatted to Finn, was Poe.
“Poe?” You mutter his name, disbelieving, little flares of excitement and relief going off in your heart, that empty hole that he had left when you thought he was gone. He turned, and it’s so him that it hurts a little bit to see his face so happy, so excited, just to hear your voice when you’ve been trying not to look like the wreck you were.
It takes Finn only a moment to look between to two of you, to see the excitement and love that you clearly share, to see how happy your very presence made Poe, and suddenly, your reaction made sense to him. In that moment you felt bad, Finn had known that Poe was alive. You hadn’t. A little voice in the back of your mind bitterly wondered why the General didn’t even care to inform you, but you shoved it away. The weight of your survival that had been haunting you over the past few days, the emotions, the loneliness, the fear, it all came crashing down around you. But there he stood, waiting with open arms, and all you could do was run to him.
“Miss me?” His voice is warm and familiar in your ear, and you can hear a hint of laughter in his words, though he’s hugging you tight. You want nothing more to be relieved, to just stay in this one moment forever, to forget everything that had happened and stay lie this. Your world had been in freefall, but suddenly you had landed, and somehow you felt as if everything was going to be OK.
“You… you…” It took a moment for you to decide on your thoughts, voice unsure before you shoved him away, punching him in the shoulder. “You asshole!” You cried. With a cry, Poe stumbled back, rubbing his sore shoulder, confused. “Don’t ever do that to me again!” Face flushed, you avoided his gaze, knowing smirk on his lips as he thought over what you were saying.“I swear, if you’re ever captured again, I’m going to come up there and kick Kylo Ren’s ass myself.” You growled, so lost in your own anger and pent-up denial that you didn’t realise that he had wrapped his arms around you until you were hugging him back. Your voice died in your throat and you could feel tears in your eyes. “I missed you.” You admitted, voice barely more than a whisper.
“I’m sorry.” He murmured, and you knew it was the closest you would get to him saying ‘I missed you too’. You wiped the tears from your eyes and he kissed your forehead softly, the two of you breaking apart, but only by a few inches.
“You dying would have sucked.” You huffed, and his warm chuckle brought a smile to your face.
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time” He snickered, the mere suggestion of ‘next time’ causing you to visibly tense up, and he quickly added, “Glad to know you care.” Despite the fact that the two of you had let go of one another, and the blush that lit your cheeks, the two of you barely strayed more than a foot from one another.
There was such comfort in the way you returned so effortlessly to the banter you had always shared.You paid no attention to the knowing smirks of your fellow pilots; maybe they were right in thinking that there was more between you and Poe. Maybe it had always been there, maybe all it took to realise was the thought of never seeing him again.
Neither of you feel the need to say ‘I love you’, but even a blind man could see there was something more. It’s there in the way he smiles at you, looking at you as if you had the power to put stars in the sky. It’s there in the way he promises he’s going to return as if in a universe of constant chaos and change, you were his anchor. It’s there in the way he listens to you, like he would fly to the Unknown Reigns and beyond just to hear you speak.
You both know it, but for now, it’s enough to be side by side against the world. With Poe, you don’t feel empty.
That robots like BB8, C-3PO and R2-D2 show more love and compassion during the course of the Star Wars films than most of the (human) villains do is honestly one of the most deepest and uncomfortable aspects of those films.
BB8 desperately rushing to Poe’s side to be reunited with him after he thought Poe was dead still gets to me more than most of the “human-to-human” moments of those films. Dear God. BB8 really loved that guy, didn’t he?
C3P0’s continual struggles to decide between self-preservation and wanting to do the right thing spring to mind, too. (And he always did the right thing, in the end.)
When even the droids are more human than proper human beings. That’s a rather weird, intriguing aspect about these films.
My main memory of these is eating them at my grandparent’s house on the weekend. Which means if my siblings and I were at my grandparent’s house on the weekend, and my parents weren’t there, they were probably off having sex. Or taking a nap. Realistically, probably both. Ah, the revelations of adulthood.