Chapter Text
Disclaimer: Story isn't mine. Lots of dialogue isn't mine. Characters aren't mine. I'm just playing with them.
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Chapter 1
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Poe was pissed. It was an odd thought to have at this particular moment, especially for the reasons he was having it.
Life was unfair.
...Partly because the First Order arrived in the small village on Jakku he was currently visiting, just seconds after he obtained the information needed to find Luke Skywalker. Poe couldn’t have conceived of worse timing. Hope had bloomed in his chest when he’d been handed the map, only to have his stomach plummet into his boots with a sick rolling sensation when BB-8 told him they had company mere moments later.
...Partly because his ship had been damaged by stray blaster fire from the obnoxious flock of proletarian grunts that had swarmed off of the transports and disseminated into the village like an unintelligent disease. Stormtroopers were famous for being severely incapable of hitting whatever they were aiming at, and here they’d managed to take out his ride by accident.
...Partly because he was an incredible shot--he’d easily dropped three stormtroopers while crouched behind a rock that jutted out of the desert--and would have easily killed the tall man who arrived shortly thereafter wearing a ridiculous amount of dramatic black fabric if the man hadn’t been so skilled with the Force that he could stop a blaster bolt midair.
Who knew that was possible? Poe thought angrily as a white, armor-clad foot caught him roughly in the back of the knee, forcing him down to kneel on the ground.
As previously mentioned: life was unfair.
And the worst of it--the thing Poe couldn’t stop circling back to in his mind--was that as soon as he started dashing through the village, dodging wildly fired shots from all sides and listening to the panicked shouts and screams of those who called these meager surroundings home, his world had bloomed into color.
The blaster fire was an exquisite blue that shone terribly against the hot, red flames that enveloped nearby structures. The myriad of skin colors around him, splashed across the different species, had made him catch his breath as he had tried to concentrate on his mission.
Get the map back to the General.
Poe had snuck into the village as quietly as he could that evening, bringing a different ship than he’d be expected to fly, and keeping hidden as he made his way to Lor San Tekka’s tent. The villagers had been quiet, and most were indoors. It didn’t surprise Poe that he’d missed his soulmate on his way in. He’d been hiding from them, after all. But on his way back to his ship, he must have passed them. One of the panicked masses watching their home burn to the ground and their family and friends die around them was his soulmate.
There was no way to tell which one, and there was no room for another organic life form in his ship even if he could figure out who it was.
And besides… this was the world they lived in. He was sure that whoever his soulmate was would understand--he couldn’t stay and risk the lives of all of the good people fighting against the First Order by squandering the first lead the New Republic had found in months. His chest squeezed as he tried to desperately convince himself that there was nothing he could do. Getting this map to General Organa would save a lot of people if it meant bringing an end to the First Order.
How many other pairs of soulmates would he save by ensuring this information got into the proper hands?
Even if it meant sacrificing his own?
Poe’s concentration snapped back to the present as the tall, masked man crouched in front of him silently. It was all a moot point now. BB-8 was smart, but it stood a slim chance of getting off this planet in one piece to deliver the map to the New Republic. And so here he was. It was kind of fitting, honestly. Romantic, in a grand, epic, ridiculous sort of way. He’d just found his soulmate, and even though he didn’t know who it was, they were probably going to die here, together, tonight.
Poe’s patience had worn thin, and his tendency to run off at the mouth got the best of him. “Who talks first? You talk first? I talk first.”
“The old man gave it to you.”
“It’s just very hard to understand you with all the…” Poe waved a resigned hand in front of his own face, referencing the mask and voice modulator the other man wore.
Poe was dragged back up to his feet, and the stormtroopers at his sides were ordered to search him. They found nothing, and Poe thought miserably that this was one of the more ironic soulmate scenarios he’d encountered. He gained the ability to see color, only to be killed minutes later by a horde of drones and their leader, each of them clothed in black and white.
Couldn’t the Universe have at least provided him with something interesting to look at before he was struck down by the lightsaber of a monochromatic lunatic?
At least the lightsaber was red. Even as it was used to murder Lor San Tekka, Poe had been moved by the beauty of the hue.
“Put him onboard,” the lunatic commanded.
Poe’s expression blanched as his mind screamed, No! He wanted to stay here, ridiculously, with his soulmate. He’d never survive whatever the First Order had in store for him aboard the ship, and he’d rather just get his death over with now. And, selfishly, he couldn’t bear the thought of his world slipping soundlessly back into greys and shadows once the stormtroopers slaughtered everyone in the village.
Everyone including his soulmate.
He’d only had colors for a matter of minutes, but he’d fallen in love with them. Evolution was pretty intelligent, Poe thought idly as he was yanked up the walkway to the ship. Of course you’d fall in love with a person if you were given a world of color at the same time. How could you not?
Poe heard the order behind him to kill the villagers, and he stumbled, trying frantically to look behind him at the mass of frightened individuals corralled into a group by the faceless soldiers who had all raised their weapons and had them trained on the crowd.
There was no way they’d miss at that range, with that many of them, no matter how bad their aim supposedly was.
Poe swallowed thickly, his stomach turning as screams erupted behind him and the sound of blasters cut through the night air. Poe squeezed his eyes shut as he was dragged forward by strong hands wrapped around his upper arms, not wanting to watch the slide of color into the bleakness he’d lived his life in up until this point as his soulmate was gunned down behind him.
Had the First Order followed him? Or were they just there for Tekka?
Poe winced and shuddered out a harsh breath as he considered the possibility that his arrival in the village had brought about the massacre he’d just witnessed. The thought that he’d been responsible for his soulmate’s death took his breath away as he was manhandled into an interrogation chair and shackled into place.
Unable to keep his head up under the grief and shame of the night’s events, Poe stared, unseeing, down at his lap.
After a moment, alone in the room with his thoughts, Poe realized his sleeve was brown.
It was a fairly ugly color, actually. He loved this jacket because it fit him well and kept him warm. Comfort was the way he’d always chosen his clothes. But this… This was not an attractive color of brown.
But it was brown.
Poe turned his head slightly to look at his shoulder. Light red and pink stared back at him.
His soulmate had survived.
Somehow… Maybe they’d hid somewhere? Maybe the stormtroopers had left some of them alive? On purpose, by accident, it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was that they were alive.
The slight hint of a smile that tugged at the corner of Poe’s mouth was tempered by the thought that in very short order his soulmate would have to become accustomed to a black and white life once again, since the chair he was strapped to was probably not reserved for guests who would be well taken care of.
But a life without color was still life, and Poe felt a sense of calm settle over him, despite the dire situation he himself was in.
His soulmate was alive. And that could be enough for him.
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TBC.