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Leia waited in the command center. There was a data pad in her lap, so she could convince herself that she was working, but really she was just waiting. It had been five and a half long days since she had sent Poe out on a mission, and two since he had missed his scheduled check in. In an earlier life, with a different pilot, she would’ve assumed he had just blown her off and yet fingernails would be bloody stumps. Poe wasn’t Han, and she’d managed to reign in her anxious nail-biting since her youth, but still, she had parked herself next to the holo-communications rig so that she would know immediately when he made contact. She shook off the doubt that he might not.
It was a dangerous solitary mission that she had sent him on, and not the kind that he was used to. With luck, there would be no wild heroics or daring X-wing maneuvers. Instead, Poe would quietly make contact with their First Order infiltrator, pick up the data he had collected, and return. The only reason it would take longer is if something had gone wrong. They hadn't picked up any outside intel about any Resistance members being either captured by or attacking the First Order, but that was unlikely to be publicized either way.
“Incoming message from Commander Dameron,” the communications officer finally informed Leia. The holo platform remained empty, but a familiar voice came over the radio after a crackle of static and binary.
“Sorry General. We couldn’t get through until now. Black One’s communication relay took a hit, its range is shot.”
“Things went sour, I assume?” Leia asked.
“Yeah.” Even though the bad connection, Leia can hear the weary resignation in Poe's voice. She struggles to match it with the face of the cocky flyboy she still thinks of him as, but then again, this wasn't a mission for a cocky flyboy and she had only sent him on it because of her faith in his maturity and discretion.
“The contact?” She had little hope for the answer. There are too many ways for a First Order infiltrator to be found out and killed. Sending Poe, a known face of the Resistance, to meet with him probably hadn't been the best choice, but they were running short on spies.
“Dead," the commander replied simply. This was far from his first mission that had gone so far south. He would process it, Leia knew, after he returned home, not before. She had held him before during breakdowns and it broke her heart to have him cry in her arms, but during the mission itself, she could always count on the commander to keep it together.
“And you?” she asked, as if she could count on him to both assess his own condition and report it accurately.
“Seen better days, but seen worse ones too,” the pilot answered cryptically. It probably wasn’t technically a lie and she realized that probing further wasn’t going to get her any answers. She’d just have to wait for him to land, and examine his condition for herself. Even if he wasn't injured, and Kalonia knew he ended up in med bay far too often, the toll of failed missions still weighed heavily on him. “I’ll be back to base in just an hour or so. I know this is top-secret and all, but could you tell Finn I’m on my way home?”
“I’ll be sure to apprise him of the situation,” Leia assured her incoming pilot. It would be nice for him if he had a small welcoming party, beyond just herself.
“Thanks General.”
“Get back safe, Commander.”
Finn had been informed that he had to stay out of the way while a ship was landing, so he stood at the very edge of the Tarmac, bouncing on his toes and wringing his hands. Still getting used to life out from under a helmet, he had a tendency to over-express his emotions, especially when he was nervous or excited. Right now, he was both. Excited that Poe was coming back, though until ten minutes ago had been under the impression that the pilot had just been on a supply run, but also was now worried, as he always was when Poe was out on missions alone. Leia had told him that he was okay, but over comms she had to rely on self-reported data and even though Finn hadn’t known the pilot very long he knew that he was notorious for insisting he was fine when he really wasn’t. The general had followed Finn out to the landing strip after informing him of Poe’s imminent return and stood a short distance behind him. Hovering is the word that would be used for anyone else, but Leia waited serenely. The ex-stormtrooper found her cool observation rather unsettling, as he couldn’t separate her completely in his mind from Phasma (both falling into the category of intimidating women in charge of him) and the chrome trooper’s stare usually spelled trouble. He could feel her gaze boring into his back, and it abated only when Black One appeared as a dot in the sky.
The X-wing didn’t so much as wobble as Poe set her down, but the hatch didn’t immediately pop open. Leia and Finn both waited, terrified that it had really just been BB-8 piloting and the pilot himself was… Then cockpit panel finally opened and Commander Dameron started to climb down. He was nearly swept off his feet as soon as he hit the ground.
Poe was too stunned to react when Finn pulled him into a tight hug. His arms were pinned against his sides anyway; even if he wanted to, he couldn’t have hugged him back. Instead, he stared mutely past his friend’s ear, watching without seeing as BB-8 was lowered to the ground. The little droid had been running on emergency battery power for a few hours now, and by this point he didn’t even have enough energy to keep his “head” balanced on top of his body. He fell over until it rested against the Tarmac, making him roll around in a circle like an egg when he tried to move forward.
“Can someone help BB to a charging station?” Poe asked when the pressure on his bruised ribs let up. Finn held him out at arm’s length with his hands firmly planted on his shoulders.
“I’ll take him,” Snap offered. Poe hadn’t even noticed him standing there. “Go get some rest.” He patted the pilot on the back of the shoulder, below where Finn’s hand rested, before awkwardly hefting his droid up. “Jeez, lose some weight BB,” he muttered. The droid had enough energy to beep out an angry retort in binary. Poe smirked a little at his mechanical friend’s indignant response.
“Poe, are you okay?” Finn demanded, shaking the pilot a little by the shoulders. He realized that he had yet to even acknowledge the other man’s presence, or even look him in the eye. The panic he saw there when he did informed him of the fact that this might have been worrying to the other man.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” he reassured his friend. “Sorry, I’m kind of out of it, and I wasn’t expecting this kind of a reception.”
“Aren’t people usually glad to see you?” Finn asked, a look of shock on his face.
“Yeah, of course they are,” Poe huffed indignantly. “But missions are a part of everyday life, even the risky ones. The world doesn’t hold it’s breath until I come home, and there are no welcome parties for returning from supply missions.”
“Well, there’s me,” his friend asserted. “And the General…” He trailed off when he turned around and saw that she was gone. “Well, she was there. You still have me though.”
“Yeah, buddy, I guess I do,” Poe agreed with a smile. “Why don’t you help me inside? I’ve got to debrief and maybe stop in the med center but then we can go back to my room to celebrate.”
“... did you just say med center?” Finn demanded incredulously. Poe Dameron actually admitting that he needed medical attention was not something the ex-stormtrooper expected to ever hear. Quickly his gaze slid over the other man from head to toe, but no obvious injuries caught his eye. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“It isn’t bad.” Even as he said it though, he leaned more into Finn’s hands on his shoulders as the exhaustion weighed on him more heavily. Poe’s thoughts wandered, absurdly, to a certain cartoon of a vornskr who chases a ysalamiri, where the laws of gravity only applied once they were acknowledged. “I just got roughed up some. Thought it might be good to make sure there isn’t any internal bleeding before I collapse.”
“Who are you, you responsible human, and what have you done with Poe?” The joke was enough to draw a laugh from the pilot, though he stopped quickly with a wince and an arm pressed to his ribs. “Let’s get you to medical before you change your mind.”
Poe limped off with Finn, an arm slung casually around his shoulders. It was nice that when he finally admitted to needing help that there was such as solid presence in the form of Finn for him to lean on.