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Captain Poe Dameron rushed down the corridor at his top speed, but he was still no match for BB-8. “Don’t wait for me, go get it started!” he told the droid.
His mind was on Red Alert. What could he and his small squadron do against a Mega-Class Star Destroyer? And at what cost? What if this was another mistake and he really was driving the Resistance toward extinction with his recklessness?
He pushed those doubts out of his mind. There was no time for them now.
He’d just reached the central hanger, his eyes locked onto Black One when an explosion rocked the hanger bay and sent him flying back.
All his friends, his entire squadron, obliterated in a second.
BB-8 rolled beside him just as the panic doors sealed. He could barely comprehend it. He tried to get up, but something held him down.
He looked up, and there was Finn crouched beside him— his hands wrapped around his chest.
‘Poe, are you alright?”
He couldn’t even answer. He couldn’t speak. For the first time in a while, he had lost all hope.
“Poe?” Finn said softly. His eyebrows tightened as he inspected the pilot for damage.
“I’m alright, Finn. I’m alright.”
But he wasn’t alright. He was humiliated, stripped of rank, guilted and gutted, and now his ship, squadron, and crew were lost to the abyss.
He tried to stand, but only succeeded in bringing Finn closer in a tangle of limbs.
Finn was worried. He’d never seen Poe like this. The look of desperation, of wanting it all to be a dream. “If you live long enough, you see the same eyes in different people.” Maz’s words were suddenly clear. He’d seen that same look on his own face every time he took off that sterile white helmet.
He managed to get Poe on his feet.
“Thanks, pal” he said breathlessly. His eyes were glued to the airlock.
Finn moved to walk away; to let his friend grieve in peace. But instead he found Poe’s hand on his shoulder and a new, desperate look in his eyes.
“We need a plan.”
******
Explosions rocked The Raddus as the pair desperately sprinted toward the bridge hand-in-hand.
Poe’s mind was so preoccupied with finding General Leia that the warmth in his palm almost didn’t register. Almost.
Finn’s face was just as serious and not at all flirtatious about it, so Poe had to assume this was normal. But no matter this logic and seriousness of the situation, his heart rate was definitely not normal.
As they closed-in on the bridge, they nearly slammed into Lieutenant Connix, who was looking out one of the space views at the battle raging around them.
“Kaydel, what’s going on?” Poe asked quickly. Lieutenant Connix was a pleasant and dedicated member of the Resistance, and she spent enough time near command to be in-the-know.
She looked terrified.
“Poe, you’re still alive,” she said, seeming surprised and relieved. “I thought we lost the entire squadron.”
Finn let go of Poe’s hand to reach up and touch his shoulder. Poe was still in a bad place, no matter his newfound resolve.
Poe tried not to miss the feeling of Finn’s hand in his palm.
“I’m the only one left. Me and BB-8.” he told her. “Do we have a plan?”
She never got the chance to reply. In that moment, a fireball exploded into the bridge beside them, killing most instantly and flinging the rest into the cold void of space.
The three watched in silent terror as the high command of the Resistance were lost forever.
Whatever small hope Poe had been harboring, it was lost now. First the bombers, then Black Squadron, and now General Leia and the rest of the Resistance's leadership. He couldn’t move or think or cry or scream. He could barely blink. We've failed.
“What the hell do we do now?” Finn asked no one in particular.
“We fight,” Connix said simply.
Finn wondered if he’d ever stop fighting.