Flying Through the Flames || Poe Dameron [The Force Awakens + the Last Jedi]

Footpath of Fire

After supper, Poe and I retreated to the top of our x-wings' hangar. There I sat in the grass and opened my book, whilst Poe set about cleaning his spacecraft.

"How long have you been reading that book, anyway?" Poe called up to me, flicking his dark hair out of his eyes.

"A while." I admitted with a sigh. "We've been so busy here."

"This is true," Poe smiled lightly, his hands becoming stained by the left-over crude oil on the rag he was using to clean the engine. With that, he disappeared beneath the grassy roof on the hangar and soon all I could hear was the clanking of metal and the grinding of gears.

"Hey, Poe?"

I blinked, glancing down at the pavement beneath me to see Briggs walking over to our hangar, his hands in his pockets.

No answer.

"Poe!" He called again, louder.

Suddenly, I felt my heart jump, the way it would if I were surprised. I narrowed my eyes, confused as I was not surprised or shocked or anything of the sort to warrant such a feeling. I wasn't surprised to see Briggs or anything; I'd watched him approach.

"Oh, hey Briggs!" Poe said, surprised.

I wasn't the one feeling surprised; Poe was.

Then it dawned on me that somehow I must have been feeling Poe's emotions through the Force.

"What the hell?" I whispered under my breath, not exactly welcoming the feeling of the Force back in my body and mind.

The only logical reason for me to be feeling what Poe was: he could use the Force, or at least was Force-sensitive.

I could tell as of right then it was the latter, but was shocked at myself for not realising it sooner. It made so much sense; he had fabulous reflexes and was an incredibly skilled pilot.

Luke had been an amazing pilot, which he informed me years ago was partially attributed to his skill with the Force.

As well as all that, Poe had an uncommon skill when it came to people; he was amazingly sensitive to emotions. One could argue that the Force helped him out with that.

"Hey, Nys!" Poe suddenly called up to me, his head poking out from under the grassy roof I was atop.

I blinked, holding my finger over the page I was on in my book, glancing down at him.

"Yeah?"

"Briggs and I are going to go grab a drink."

"Okay." I smiled, but was wondering in the back of my mind if Briggs was going for a date. "I'll be here, probably."

With that, they were off.

...

An hour later, I'd since moved inside the hangar because it was getting dark; I needed the light inside to read.

The ending to my book was terrible and dissatisfying, including the death of the main character before he could partake in the ass-kicking of the story's big-bad.

I wasn't pleased.

With a huff I let my book fall onto my lap, looking up at the aircraft I was sitting near. I felt so small in comparison to it. I still couldn't believe that in a few short hours I would be flying one of those to Jakku, on potentially one of the most important missions of my career in the Resistance.

If I was going to fly to the best of my capacity, I was going to need sleep.

That was potentially going to be an issue.