Chapter Text
General Organa made one thing very clear after Starkiller Base was destroyed: the Resistance was to get the hell off D'Qar as fast as possible.
That certainly made sense to Poe Dameron. Whatever was left of the First Order knew exactly where they were, and they probably weren't happy that the Resistance had just turned their shiny superweapon into a giant ball of superheated gas. Only problem was the lack of transport ships. With the Republic fleet decimated and the government scrambling to maintain order and peace through their sectors, there weren't ships to spare. The Resistance certainly didn't have enough transports. But of course, he could always count on the General to be resourceful.
As the D'Qarian atmosphere gave way to the pitch black of space, he saw their rescue. A massive, but aging, Imperial Class-II Star Destroyer. The red paint on the bow was a dead giveaway as to who had come to their aid, none other than Mirax Terrik. Captain of the Errant Venture. For a supposedly respectable military leader and politician, General Organa certainly had a number of ties to the more… fringe elements of the Galaxy.
Jot down another reason Poe had so much respect for the General. Only she could command the respect of so many disparate elements.
Carefully, Poe set his T-70 X-wing down on the Errant Venture's hangar floor. After carefully going through his power-down checklist, he popped the canopy and climbed out of his starfighter, giving the hull a thankful pat for getting him to his destination yet again. As he strode away from the starfighter he was met by BB-8 with a happy twir.
"Well don't get too comfortable, buddy," Poe said, smiling as he glanced down at the droid. "I don't know where the General is sending us now but this is probably just a temporary stop."
Out of the corner of his eye as he made his way out of the hangar, he caught sight of something that made him stop in his tracks. Three brand-new Incom-FreiTek T-85 X-wings. Now just how had Captain Terrik gotten a hold of these? General Organa had been trying to sweet-talk her contacts at Incom for ages to get a full squadron's worth of them, but they had been forced to settle for older T-70s picked up off the black market since Incom could get more credits from the Republic fleet proper.
"Commander Dameron!"
Poe turned and saw a young man in plain fatigues rushing towards him. "Sorry to bother you, Commander. I've got orders from Captain Terrik to bring you to the VIP lounge."
"VIP lounge?" Poe asked. Right. The Errant Venture wasn't a military warship. It was a smuggler's den. Old Booster probably had a special entertaining venue installed decades ago for his friends.
"Wish I could tell you more," the deck hand said. "General Organa is there as well, so whatever she and the Captain are talking about are well above my pay grade."
Probably mine as well, Poe thought to himself.
"Lead the way," Poe said, gesturing toward the hangar exit.
For a decades-old Star Destroyer, Poe had to admire how well it had been maintained. This was a ship that was well loved. Clean corridors, smooth turbolifts. Sure, there were a few passed out smugglers and spacers here and there, but that was to be expected for one of the Galaxy's most famous smuggler hangouts. He imagined there had to be a couple fun cantinas on board. He made a note to bring his pilots to one later. They hadn't had a chance yet to toast to their victory. Mourn the fallen.
Shaking his head, Poe filed that thought away. He could take some time to pay respects after he talked to the General.
The deck hand left him in front of the door to the VIP lounge, nestled high in the ship near where the officers' quarters would have been back when this was still a fear-inspiring military vessel. Removing his helmet and tucking it under his arm, Poe depressed the button to activate the door. Beyond was perhaps the fanciest bar he had ever seen. Plush seats, expensive looking furnishing, lighting that belonged more in an upscale Coruscant restaurant than a Star Destroyer. Captain Terrik must have updated this to her own specifications.
As Poe scanned over the room, he saw two familiar figures seated at the bar. Still clad in their flightsuits just like Poe, Jess Pava and Temmin "Snap" Wexley were conversing and already nursing drinks. Poe thought that they definitely had the right idea. The last few days had been rough, and a stiff drink sounded like exactly what the medical droid ordered. Taking a seat next to Snap, Poe flagged down the bartender and asked for a glass of Whyren's Reserve. It might cost an arm and a leg per glass, but by the Force, he had earned it.
"Good to see you, Poe," Snap said, raising his glass.
"Commander," Jess followed up, nodding towards him.
Poe smiled. Losing friends at Starkiller base was difficult, but he was still thankful for those who were still with him. "No one else I'd rather be sharing a drink with."
"Good," Jess said. "You'll be happy to know Captain Terrik is paying for the tab."
Poe grinned. "In that case, barkeep! Make that a double!"
The barkeep placed the drink in front of Poe. Lifting the glass, Poe swirled the drink around the ice before taking a sip of the amber liquid. He let it sit on his tongue for a long moment. It had been entirely too long since had a sip of this. His father had said Whyren's had been his mother's favorite drink. Starting every year from when he had turned eighteen, Poe and his father shared a glass on his mother's birthday. Idly he hoped she was watching from somewhere, proud of what he and his squadron mates had done the last few days.
"Any idea why we're here?" Snap asked.
Jess cocked a brow. "You mean we're here for something other than General Organa and Captain Terrik's good will in covering our bill?"
"Whatever it is," Poe said, "I just hope it doesn't wind up with me being interrogated by the First Order again."
"I assure you, it won't" General Organa said with a faint smile as she walked into the lounge. She was flanked by two other individuals, a woman with dark hair and clad in an old bomber jacket and an older, blonde gentleman. It never seemed to matter what happened to the General. Loss of her planet, brother, son, husband. She always carried herself with power and dignity. It was one of the reasons he admired her so much.
Poe bolted out of his seat, snapping a salute. "General."
General Organa rolled her eyes. "Stop that, Poe." She gestured for the barkeep. "Alazar Whiskey, neat."
Sheepishly, Poe returned to his barstool, nodding at the General as she took her own seat at the bar.
"Commander Dameron, Captain Wexley, Lieutenant Pava," the General said. "Thank you for joining us on short notice. This is Captain Terrik-" General Organa gestured to the woman to her left. "-And General Klivian."
Jess nearly choked her drink. "Hobbie Klivian? One of the original Rogues at Hoth and Endor?"
The blonde man smiled. "Shot down at Hoth and wounded at Endor, yes."
"And wounded at least a dozen other times between Endor and Coruscant," Captain Terrik added. "Sometimes I think all of that was a brilliant ploy to get a bacta sponsorship deal from a Thyferra conglomerate."
"Who says it wasn't?" General Klivian replied.
General Organa held up her hand. "We can continue the conversation after we get through this briefing. Commander Dameron, I have an important mission for you, Snap, and Jess."
Poe glanced over at his fellow pilots momentarily. "Of course. Anything, General."
General Organna nodded and gestured towards General Klivian.
"We need you to head to the Corellia system," General Klivian said. "Near Coronet City are three contacts I need you to meet. They're old Rebellion hands, worked with us in establishing the Republic after the fall of the Empire. We need you to convince them to come out of retirement."
"Sounds like you would be better suited to talking to them than us," Snap said. "You seem to know them better than we do."
Leia cocked a brow. "I'm kind of in the middle of running a war effort."
"She named me interim head of starfighter command." Klivian pointed a thumb towards Leia.
"They never listen to my good advice," Captain Terrik said with a shrug.
"So who exactly are you sending us to meet?" Jess asked as she tapped her glass for a refill.
General Organa looked thoughtful for a moment. "You'll recognize them, I think. The three of you. For security reasons, let's leave it at that. How soon can you depart?"
"Well," Poe said, raising his glass, "soon as I work off the effects of this."
"Twenty minutes, then?"
"Twenty minutes."
Snap finished his drink and set the empty glass down on the bartop. "Damn, I barely put a dent in the open bar."
"You convince them to come back with you," Captain Terrik said, "I promise I'm opening the bar for every damn pilot aboard this ship."
Poe stood and picked up his helmet off the bartop. "Let's get to it, then."
As he, Snap, and Jess made their way out of the lounge, he heard General Organa call for him. "Poe, a moment of your time please?"
Poe nodded towards Snap and Jess, dismissing them to prepare for a long journey. He strode back towards the bar. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Two things," General Organa retrieved a datapad from her vest pocket. "I'm transmitting a list of new volunteers and recruits to you. I want you to take a good look at it in transit."
An odd request, to be sure. Certainly that could wait until he got back, but who was he to argue? "Absolutely. And the second thing?"
"That trio of T-85s in the hangar," Captain Terrik said. "And don't give me that look, you flyboys are all the same. Drooling over the shiniest thing on the deck. I'd advise you take them."
Poe raised a brow. "All due respect, Captain, this is just a blue milk run. We should probably leave those back here in case-"
"You're going to want to listen to the good captain," General Klivian said. "They'll be helpful."
With a nod, Poe turned on his heels and made his way towards the hangar.