The Art of Broken Pieces

Lunch and Spoon Explore Yavin IV

Alone in the silence of his study, Poe paced back and forth before the tall windows that looked out over the estate gardens. The papers in his hands had been crumpled and smoothed a hundred times, and still the words on them haunted him. Names, dates, lists... all the evidence the senate was planning of bringing to bear at Kylo Ren's trial. It covered the surface of his desk, scattered pieces of reports and bitter commentary. He had seen and heard them all before, many of them written in his own hand. When he closed his eyes he could still see innocents screaming around him, the crackling of the flames as the First Order razed the small village to the ground. The dark voice that echoed... kill them all. It was one memory of many, spanning across the years.

It should have been easy, composing the speech that he would be expected to present before the senate. As the senate leader, the final words would be his, and he was finding he had none.

With a frustrated growl, Poe balled up the empty paper again, flinging it against the glass where it bounced uselessly across the floor. He scrubbed his hands through his hair, restless energy coursing through him. He was a soldier, dammit! Not a politician. But Leia had claimed to see something more, had given him these reins and put her faith in him. He couldn't let her down.

Sighing, he strode to the door and yanked it open, needing to find a way to clear his head. Voices drifted to him down the long hallway, the familiar soft sounds of friends and family. He was drawn to them, Rose's embarrassed giggle, Vara's deeper laugh, the desperate sound of Finn trying to shush them both.

Poking his head into the sitting room, Poe took in the scene with a tired smile. Rose had just managed to get the baby to sleep and was telling some sort of story that had the others wide-eyed with amusement. The story cut off abruptly as Poe entered --something about kitchen towels-- and the giggling started up again.

"Shush!" Finn tried again, scowling. "You'll wake her up again, seriously!"

"Do I even want to know?" Poe asked quietly, glancing at little Paige Organa, nestled quietly in her mother's awkward grasp.

"Probably not," Finn whispered.

"Uh-oh," Vara said, unfolding her legs from beneath her. "He's doing the eyebrow thing." She mimicked a look of extreme consternation. "You know," she continued as Finn's grin began to emerge. "That thing he does when someone tells him he has to do something impossible without an x-wing."

"I know the look," Finn agreed. "I see it every time we're about to go into a meeting."

Rose smiled, and turned her eyes to Poe, murmuring over the sleeping baby's head. "Is it trial stuff?"

Finn and Vara both winced. The three refugee children still playing a game in the corner looked up at the mention of the trial.

"You could say that." Poe replied, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms. "I think I just need a break from it all. Anyone want to run away with me? I'm thinking we could become bounty hunters. Or privateers. Who's with me?"

Vara raised her hand at once. "Please! I'm bored as hell doing security!"

Fin glanced at Rose, who frowned in consideration, then shrugged. "Can we bring the baby?"

"Baby bounty hunter? Hell yes we can." Poe nodded. "We'll make a... strappy thing for BB to wear--is there a name for those?--and he can roll around with her."

"Wouldn't he roll on the baby?" Vara asked, making a loop with her finger to simulate the droid's rolling body.

Rose shook her head, whispering in an excited tone. "Not if you weight it right and make sure there are ball bearings. Or use a sort of mag-level..." The baby grunted, and everyone drew in a sharp breath until she grunted again and cuddled closer to her mother's chest.

"Let's go somewhere we don't have to whisper," Finn said.