Fire Meet Gasoline | Poe Dameron

Seventeen

My jewellery is carefully chosen as I prepare myself on Hosnian Prime in my childhood room. The apartment I was raised in one of the very few assets still in our possession that hasn't been sold to fund the Resistance considering it doubles as an operations base when Resistance officials visit the city.

Mom will likely never step foot here again due to the risk of assassination, it's a miracle she had survived the initial fallout when senators were dropping like flies with blaster shots to the chest. Hell they even tried to take a shot at me and to this day I still wonder if it truly was a rogue man lashing out in an act of vengeance against Darth Vader by attempting to kill his sixteen year old grandaughter, or a calculated attempt orchestrated by Carise Sindian just as all the other's had been.

Most of the crown jewels of Alderaan were destroyed, but some remained in safe keeping off world and had been re-acquired by my parents in the years after the Empire's fall. Beside my signet ring I wear another of a deep blue Alderaanian gemstone, the silver band matching the silver belt of Mom's that survived the days of the rebellion. The white dress I wear is also hers, with a high neck and open sleeves. 

Practically I know the media likes to remark upon fashion, something I had certainly learned during my time on Naboo, so it makes sense to wear clothes that link directly to the title she transferred to me. Sentimentally however... I find her force signature comforting. 

My hand hovers over the various diadems and circlets I'd inherited from Padmé, although inevitably it lands upon my favourite. A simple diadem of two silver bands that run across the forehead, although my hand does linger to ensure the memories attached to it don't feel like presenting themselves today. 

I've seen far too much already.

My makeup is clean and simple, although the foundation is heavier than anything I'd wear outside of Hosnian Prime and my black eyeliner's reluctantly abandoned considering the face I show publically is far different to the one I wear in the field to avoid recognition. I make my face fuller with blush, carefully placing two almost microscopic red dots upon my cheeks. It had been the traditional makeup of the Naboo queen but it's become common fashion amongst the nobility in recent years. As Padmé's direct descendant I'd been given the title of lady by the Naboo long before Mom had transferred her own to me in the midst of the disaster, considering I'll need all the support I can get appealing to both sides of my heritage only seems wise. 

My hair rests in two buns on either side of my head, the silver diadem secured neatly in place, and for a moment I scarcely recognising myself at the sight of my reflection. The makeup makes my face appear younger and yet I feel far older than my years, only feeling more unwell the closer we grow to having to leave the safety of home.

 I can take blaster shots and tie-fighters, but the senate is a different battlefield entirely. 

"Hope," Korrie says from the doorway. "Are you ready?"

"No but the clock's ticking and this is too important to screw up," I answer honestly and turn to place my lightsaber in R2's storage compartment. "Keep this safe for me."

Korrie inhales before beginning "Now, you know that I believe droids have every right to be in the senate-"

"But the senate won't like it, I know," I say, remembering that there are two reasons why I'm here. "As far as I'm concerned the senate can go fuck itself on that shiny monument that they have dedicated to the Galactic Concordance considering the amount of respect they seem to show it."

She blinks at me before saying "I'll be waiting in the transport."

I take one last look at myself before following after her, R2 right by my side. The trip to the senate building is unfortunately short and when we arrive media stand outside, flooding the place.