Chapter Text
The silence of the hanger was almost eerie. There was no clattering of tools from the technicians, or chatter from the pilots. No orders were being called over the speakers. No engines were running or droids beeping.
Anyone who was still awake was stationed elsewhere – tending to the sick in the medbay or keeping things running smoothly from the command centre, listening for anything that could help or hinder them.
Everything was still.
However, everything was not dark.
A single beam of bright torch light shone through the shadows, bouncing off the sleeping ships and walls. It would move every now and then to a different ship, causing the beam to ricochet off to another corner of the room.
The source of the light could be traced back to the cockpit of an X-Wing, stationed off to the side of the inky hanger. The torch was held by a figure. Comfortably curled up in the seat, flicking the light around the room absentmindedly. Face covered by a hood, clouding their features in shadow.
The figure sighed heavily, pulling their hood down to reveal their brown hair, running their fingers through it to neaten it – though little effort was put into the action.
It was a young woman.
Somewhere in her late twenties – but the bags under her eyes and the shadows dancing across her face aged her, and made it hard to determine.
Her hand dropped from her hair, and this time she groaned, letting her head fall back to hit the leather seat.
Her brown eyes glanced around her surroundings aimlessly, unfocused. Nothing new to note. Nothing new to distract her. Even in the midnight shadows, the brightness of them could be seen. And the darkness too. Of stories hidden deep, left to be untold or forgotten.
To a stranger, they would have thought this woman was asleep with her eyes open. But to those that knew her, they would know that she was thinking. The kind of thoughts hard to explain, but easy to get lost in. While her eyes saw nothing, her brain worked overtime. Quickly creating disconnected ideas and just as quickly breaking them and moving on to something else. The only way to describe her mind in that moment, was a battlefield.
She was pulled from her thoughts by the opening of the door to the hanger, accompanied by boots on smooth stone.
Her mind came back to reality, pulling her hood back over her hair before looking at the source of her disturbance. She flicked the light of her torch over to the shadow approaching her, flashing it in their eyes to try to deter them.
"Whoa! Whoa! Easy Nova, I'd like it if you didn't blind me," they said, raising a hand to shield their eyes.
Nova huffed out a sigh and removed her hood again. "Oh, it's just you."
"Don't sound so pleased," they retorted.
She rolled her eyes, removing the beam of the torch from their face.
"Can I come up?"
She made no verbal response, but directed the light to the ladder propped against the ship.
They approached and climbed up to join her.
The person in question was a man.
A little bit older and taller than her. Skin a naturally darker tan in colour. Dark brown eyes, always deep with some emotion or another. Hair a mess of dark curls, often tousled from being kept beneath a helmet – or from his own handiwork.
His name: Poe Dameron.
He pulled himself into the cockpit beside Nova, letting her shift to a more comfortable position in his arms.
She sat across his lap, head resting against his shoulder.
It was not an uncommon or uncomfortable occurrence for the two. Years of undercover missions together had led to them having to share a bed or be in a confined space with one another more than once. And while there had of course been friction and distrust at first, common ground had been found and boundaries established.
That, and a few jokes from Poe to diffuse the tension – at least to some extent.
And at least once a week – if not more – Nova could be found in the hanger in the early hours, hooded and armed with a torch.
"What are you doing up? We're not due to leave for another hour," she asked, leaning to look him in the eyes.
"I wasn't about to let you suffer on your own," he said, beginning to play with her hair – something she had begrudgingly grown to appreciate.
"I woke you up, didn't I?"
"Nah, I couldn't sleep anyway," he shrugged kindly. "What was it this time?"
She paused for a second. "Dantooine, I think... I don't know. It's all blurring together now..."
"Right," he nodded. "Anything I should know about?"
"No. Same old, same old. It's not so much a nightmare, more a memory you can't forget, no matter how hard you try," she sighed. "It hurts."
"I know. I would say we'll figure it out, but –"
"There's nothing to figure out," Nova finished.
"Yeah," he sighed, gently brushing her hair from her forehead. "I wish I could help you."
"You are. Just these talks are enough," she assured, fiddling with her sleeve, leaning further into his shoulder. The moment was one to savour – at least for her. Those days it was rare for her to feel a sense of comfort.
"Okay." The sentiment did not comfort him as much as Nova would have liked, but it was the truth.
Silence fell between the friends – for that was all they were at present.
Friends.
Poe had begun to weave sections of her hair together, a habit and skill he had picked up as a way of comforting her and distracting him.
Not many people got to see this side of Nova. Some people did not believe it existed. And she liked it that way. She did not need to trouble people with her scars or vulnerability.
Every member of the Resistance had their own burdens to bare – shared collectively with their comrades and co-pilots or otherwise.
She was no different.
Her body and mind started to relax simultaneously, letting her return to some version of normal and functionality.
"You should get some sleep. I know this is a simple, super-secret retrieval mission, but I still need my wing-woman on top form," Poe said, adjusting their position to coax Nova to leave the cockpit and return to the ground.
"Says you. What was that about you not sleeping before this?"
"I'm not the one we should be worried about."
"Poe, I'm okay," Nova assured, swinging herself over the side of her ship and down to the floor.
"Alright. I'll see you in an hour." He joined her on the ground.
"Yes, Commander," Nova smirked, giving him a mock salute.
"Sleep well, Captain," Poe said, returning the gesture with the same sass she had given him.
"You don't salute me. I'm a lower rank," she laughed.
He rolled his eyes. "Doesn't mean I don't respect you."
"Doesn't seem like it with that attitude."
"Watch it," he lightly warned. "Right. Sleep. Go."
"Yes, sir." She turned to leave, but couldn't resist trying to have the last word in her now drowsy delirium. "I could still outfly you on half an hour's sleep."
"No you could not," he exclaimed.
"Wanna bet?"
"No."
"Come on."
"You're tired. You don't know what you're saying."
"If you say so," she shrugged. "If you ever wanna test it..."
"That's dangerous, even by my standards," Poe said.
Nova turned, raising an eyebrow. "Damn."
Poe rolled his eyes again. "Sleep, Captain."
She nodded, letting her cocky demeanour fade away into the shadows with a soft sigh. "Night, Poe."
He smiled softly. "Night, Nova."
---
The soft sound of a single wind chime drew Nova's wary gaze. Her eyes carefully surveyed the spiritual village outside of the tent, before turning back to the conversation at hand.
Night covered the desert planet of Jakku – two silver moons hung far above the world, and with them came the cold. Fitting, for a such a barren and hopeless world. Sure, there was life and settlements, but little hope for anything better.
No one was there by a choice. Either they were hiding, or they were stuck with no means of escape.
The perfect meeting place for a secret transaction of crucial information, for either side. Except their enemies did not need to hide.
They were already too powerful for that.
The pilots sat before Lor San Tekka, a galactic explorer and currently, the man who could help turn the tide in favour of the Resistance. It was no over exaggeration – if he truly had what he had set out to find for them, everything was about to change.
For the Resistance, and for Nova.
"This will begin to make things right," San Tekka said, his voice grave and weary. From the pocket of his robe, he produced something contained in a small leather pouch which he placed in Poe's hand, guiding it to close around the item.
Poe looked up from his now closed hand, exchanging a brief look with Nova, then turned back to their ally.
"I've travelled too far, and seen too much, to ignore the despair in the galaxy," San Tekka continued. "Without the Jedi, there can be no balance in the Force."
"Well, because of you now we have a chance," Poe said. "The General's been after this for a long time."
Nova nodded.
She knew more than most just how long Leia had been after that information – what it meant to her. What it could mean for the bigger picture.
"The General," San Tekka chuckled. "To me, she is royalty." He looked towards Nova this time, his tired eyes kind and knowing.
"She certainly is that," Poe smiled in agreement.
It was Nova's turn to laugh softly. "But she won't thank you if you call her Princess."
Before she could further elaborate, their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of BB-8, a small orange and white droid, beeping a frantic warning to his master.
Poe and Nova's eyes snapped to him, concern etched on their faces.
Nova was the first up, darting out of the tent and back outside after the spherical droid.
"We've got company," Poe said gravely, moving to quickly follow his two companions.
Nova had already brought her quadnocs up to her eyes to get a better look at what the droid had warned them about. What she saw made her stomach drop.
In the distance, but still far too close, First Order troop carriers were making their final decent outside of the small village. The lights of the ships shone bright and piercing in the night; all together menacing and dread-inducing for anyone who knew what to expect from them.
She lowered the quadnocs slowly, her expression cold as stone. She knew exactly what was coming, and who would undoubtedly follow knowing the information they had just received.
Everyone in that village was now a target – guilty or no.
"You have to hide," she said, turning back to San Tekka as he exited the tent with Poe, the pair watching her closely.
"You have to leave," the explorer corrected. "Go!"
Poe turned to look at his companion, conflict covering his face. He too knew what was coming, and he hated to leave people defenceless against it. But at the same time, he knew that if they did not leave, they could jeopardise their whole mission.
Nova made the hard call for him. With a final, sorrowful nod to San Tekka, she turned and started running back through the village.
With a heavy heart, Poe was not far behind her, looking back every now and then to check BB-8 was keeping pace with them.