Poe Dameron had not expected to ever hear anything from Lor San Tekka’s beacon, although he had been able to find it amidst the many things left behind by the First Order in their ransacking of the Jakku village. He’d gone back after the Resistance cleared out of D’Qar, and held onto it, just in case.
That “just in case” now happened – the beacon went off, and a woman’s voice greeted him with a promise of information.
“Heh.”
He’d shaken his head at it, at the time. They knew where Luke was, now. Rey was there with him, and though Poe had no idea where ‘there’ was, he trusted Leia and the others were keeping that safe. It was better if he not know. If he got captured by the First Order, Kylo Ren would pull it from his head.
He despised that weakness.
Still, how could he not follow this? It was on Lothal based on the coordinates, and Lor San Tekka had mentioned informants on a few planets, Lothal included, so as soon as the Commander got permission from General Organa, the dark-haired man was off in one of the small freighters and hitting lightspeed a half-hour after he’d gotten the message, BB-8 along with him.
The trip wasn’t as fast as Poe would have liked it, and lightspeed was never terribly entertaining, but he almost preferred it to the sight that greeted him when they got to Lothal. BB-8’s low whistle at the sight wasn’t any more encouraging. “Happy beeps, buddy,” he said as he looked upon the star destroyers in the air above Lothal.
‘Maybe this intel really is good.’ In which case, they couldn’t let the Order get their hands on it. Though, Poe suspected it could just be coincidence. Lothal had been a hotly contested world during the era of the Empire, shifting hands often. The Order needed supplies after losing Starkiller – Lothal was as good a place to start. “Easy does it,” he said, “we got to go around this and find a place to land the freighter.”
Landing in a hangar wouldn’t be possible with this sort of presence, but he was pretty sure he could navigate outside of their sensors and go unnoticed if he kept his distance, and so he did just that, bringing the freighter around the destroyers and avoiding the TIE patrols. The presence wasn’t large, which was good for Poe.
He was still far too recognizable.
He was able to make it to land outside of Capital City, and was for once glad he wasn’t wearing his orange jumpsuit, but was more subdued in tan brown slacks and a beige top. BB-8 rolled out behind him, “No, no, you stay with the ship.”
BB-8 immediately beeped out his protests, “Hey, I have a comm, you’ll know if anything happens and you can get back to Leia. The ship has autopilot settings you can turn on.” Again, more protesting, “You’ll be recognized, and the only way I’ll get back-up, is if you get to Leia, BB.”
The whistle this time was lower, but understanding. Poe gave a small smile, “Thanks,” and with that, BB-8 rolled back up the ramp, and let Poe move on towards the city. It was nothing like Coruscant, the high-rises nowhere near obscuring the sun from the ground levels. Yet, it still seemed too large for the Order to have stationed troopers everywhere right then, so Poe was able to get into the city, and move amongst the crowds, following the directions he’d been given, taking a look at his datapad every now and then to make sure he was still on the right path.
Eventually, he came to the cantina he’d been instructed to head towards, the Crickbeet Jig, a name that almost made him roll his eyes as he stepped into it, the evening sun casting a haze over the place through the windows. Still, he was able to catch the sight of the woman from the video, her auburn hair catching the light and seeming almost on fire for it.
One perk of red hair, for those being sought.
Not so much when one was trying to hide.
He approached casually, like an old friend, to try and hide suspicion, “Hey, Kayla?” He asked, already starting to sit down at her table, “I’m Poe, Lor San Tekka’s friend. I got your message,” he knew this wasn’t what she was likely expecting, and he wouldn’t assume Lor San Tekka had told her.
He knew that could mean some problems with establishing trust and getting the information.
So, why not start out well, “Need something to drink? Eat?” They were in a cantina, and he probably wasn’t talking her into walking out with him just yet.
Maybe Lor San Tekka made his life easy.
Maybe he mentioned Poe.
~***~
Called the Coruscant of the Outer Rim, Eriadu glistened from space with lights that never went off, except for one rather large patch of land just outside of Eriadu City. It was within that glistening city, however, that the one known as Finn would be heading, and to one of the hangars connected to their governing offices. Directions would be given over to him where to land, and how to approach.
This was known to Neria Tarkin, a woman who stood waiting in that hangar, hands folded behind her back, hair left down for this meeting.
‘Former Stormtrooper, FN-2187, now Finn.’
She was running through what she knew as she watched the ship approach, assessing the style of it, the way it flew, as if it was all information she needed – as if she might have a way to knock the ship from the sky without much more than the flick of a wrist.
‘FN Corps under Captain Phasma, considered to be among the better ones before being entirely decimated at the battle of Takodana.’ Brainwashed entirely from youth to serve the Order, but one broke away, and was now entrusted by Leia Organa to meet with them.
Neria held some doubts, and considered this ‘Finn’ may be a sleeper agent of the Order, but this conversation would end up determining much about that. He’d had opportunity to kill Leia, but had not. He was either a poor Sleeper, not a Sleeper, or had some alternative mission among the Resistance.
Eventually, the ship landed in the hangar, and Neria walked towards it, planning to be near the base of the ramp when it lowered. She had been told how many were in the ship already through an earpiece, along with what weapons were declared. ‘That doesn’t mean all of them.’ And she wouldn’t blame Finn if he had weapons.
Neria had weapons.
She wasn’t even bothering to hide them, a blaster was strapped to her left thigh, visible through a slit in her dress. Practical for a weapon, but far from her favorite sort of weapon. She had foregone anything that looked like old Imperial attire, tempting as it was, to go for a simple blue dress instead. It would supposedly help to remove her connections, just a bit, to the Empire, and so to its bastard offspring, the First Order.
Good impressions were necessary at this point.
That didn’t mean sparks of it weren’t there.
Her nails were painted to resemble the patterning of the Grand Moff insignia, blue on one hand, and a split of red and gold on the other.
Gold glittered on her eyelids, and red was painted onto her lips.
Subtle things, likely mistaken as simple make-up by the majority, but there was little more her family enjoyed than petty spite – something in common with General Organa, which was precisely why it couldn’t be Organa that was met.
Just some random Ex-Stormtrooper, who by all rights, should have been a nobody.
‘But he isn’t.’
So Neria Tarkin stood poised at the base of the ramp, prepared not to underestimate him.
That “just in case” now happened – the beacon went off, and a woman’s voice greeted him with a promise of information.
“Heh.”
He’d shaken his head at it, at the time. They knew where Luke was, now. Rey was there with him, and though Poe had no idea where ‘there’ was, he trusted Leia and the others were keeping that safe. It was better if he not know. If he got captured by the First Order, Kylo Ren would pull it from his head.
He despised that weakness.
Still, how could he not follow this? It was on Lothal based on the coordinates, and Lor San Tekka had mentioned informants on a few planets, Lothal included, so as soon as the Commander got permission from General Organa, the dark-haired man was off in one of the small freighters and hitting lightspeed a half-hour after he’d gotten the message, BB-8 along with him.
The trip wasn’t as fast as Poe would have liked it, and lightspeed was never terribly entertaining, but he almost preferred it to the sight that greeted him when they got to Lothal. BB-8’s low whistle at the sight wasn’t any more encouraging. “Happy beeps, buddy,” he said as he looked upon the star destroyers in the air above Lothal.
‘Maybe this intel really is good.’ In which case, they couldn’t let the Order get their hands on it. Though, Poe suspected it could just be coincidence. Lothal had been a hotly contested world during the era of the Empire, shifting hands often. The Order needed supplies after losing Starkiller – Lothal was as good a place to start. “Easy does it,” he said, “we got to go around this and find a place to land the freighter.”
Landing in a hangar wouldn’t be possible with this sort of presence, but he was pretty sure he could navigate outside of their sensors and go unnoticed if he kept his distance, and so he did just that, bringing the freighter around the destroyers and avoiding the TIE patrols. The presence wasn’t large, which was good for Poe.
He was still far too recognizable.
He was able to make it to land outside of Capital City, and was for once glad he wasn’t wearing his orange jumpsuit, but was more subdued in tan brown slacks and a beige top. BB-8 rolled out behind him, “No, no, you stay with the ship.”
BB-8 immediately beeped out his protests, “Hey, I have a comm, you’ll know if anything happens and you can get back to Leia. The ship has autopilot settings you can turn on.” Again, more protesting, “You’ll be recognized, and the only way I’ll get back-up, is if you get to Leia, BB.”
The whistle this time was lower, but understanding. Poe gave a small smile, “Thanks,” and with that, BB-8 rolled back up the ramp, and let Poe move on towards the city. It was nothing like Coruscant, the high-rises nowhere near obscuring the sun from the ground levels. Yet, it still seemed too large for the Order to have stationed troopers everywhere right then, so Poe was able to get into the city, and move amongst the crowds, following the directions he’d been given, taking a look at his datapad every now and then to make sure he was still on the right path.
Eventually, he came to the cantina he’d been instructed to head towards, the Crickbeet Jig, a name that almost made him roll his eyes as he stepped into it, the evening sun casting a haze over the place through the windows. Still, he was able to catch the sight of the woman from the video, her auburn hair catching the light and seeming almost on fire for it.
One perk of red hair, for those being sought.
Not so much when one was trying to hide.
He approached casually, like an old friend, to try and hide suspicion, “Hey, Kayla?” He asked, already starting to sit down at her table, “I’m Poe, Lor San Tekka’s friend. I got your message,” he knew this wasn’t what she was likely expecting, and he wouldn’t assume Lor San Tekka had told her.
He knew that could mean some problems with establishing trust and getting the information.
So, why not start out well, “Need something to drink? Eat?” They were in a cantina, and he probably wasn’t talking her into walking out with him just yet.
Maybe Lor San Tekka made his life easy.
Maybe he mentioned Poe.
~***~
Called the Coruscant of the Outer Rim, Eriadu glistened from space with lights that never went off, except for one rather large patch of land just outside of Eriadu City. It was within that glistening city, however, that the one known as Finn would be heading, and to one of the hangars connected to their governing offices. Directions would be given over to him where to land, and how to approach.
This was known to Neria Tarkin, a woman who stood waiting in that hangar, hands folded behind her back, hair left down for this meeting.
‘Former Stormtrooper, FN-2187, now Finn.’
She was running through what she knew as she watched the ship approach, assessing the style of it, the way it flew, as if it was all information she needed – as if she might have a way to knock the ship from the sky without much more than the flick of a wrist.
‘FN Corps under Captain Phasma, considered to be among the better ones before being entirely decimated at the battle of Takodana.’ Brainwashed entirely from youth to serve the Order, but one broke away, and was now entrusted by Leia Organa to meet with them.
Neria held some doubts, and considered this ‘Finn’ may be a sleeper agent of the Order, but this conversation would end up determining much about that. He’d had opportunity to kill Leia, but had not. He was either a poor Sleeper, not a Sleeper, or had some alternative mission among the Resistance.
Eventually, the ship landed in the hangar, and Neria walked towards it, planning to be near the base of the ramp when it lowered. She had been told how many were in the ship already through an earpiece, along with what weapons were declared. ‘That doesn’t mean all of them.’ And she wouldn’t blame Finn if he had weapons.
Neria had weapons.
She wasn’t even bothering to hide them, a blaster was strapped to her left thigh, visible through a slit in her dress. Practical for a weapon, but far from her favorite sort of weapon. She had foregone anything that looked like old Imperial attire, tempting as it was, to go for a simple blue dress instead. It would supposedly help to remove her connections, just a bit, to the Empire, and so to its bastard offspring, the First Order.
Good impressions were necessary at this point.
That didn’t mean sparks of it weren’t there.
Her nails were painted to resemble the patterning of the Grand Moff insignia, blue on one hand, and a split of red and gold on the other.
Gold glittered on her eyelids, and red was painted onto her lips.
Subtle things, likely mistaken as simple make-up by the majority, but there was little more her family enjoyed than petty spite – something in common with General Organa, which was precisely why it couldn’t be Organa that was met.
Just some random Ex-Stormtrooper, who by all rights, should have been a nobody.
‘But he isn’t.’
So Neria Tarkin stood poised at the base of the ramp, prepared not to underestimate him.