Chapter Text
You’d been trying to find the Resistance for a while. After the rise of the First Order and the shitstorm that descended upon your planet, you wanted to help. It was a total fluke when you found a few members at a trading post on Sancturary II— the planet you’d fled to after your prior unit had been invaded by thousands of Storm Troopers.
You hadn’t expected it to be that easy. They looked exhausted, they looked tired, but their faces had lit up when you’d approached them; showed them your papers, told them of your past, told them that you were an extra pair of hands to train, to pilot, to fight.
“You sure about this?” The pilot had said. He was pale and dotted with freckles, scratching his ginger stubble as he regarded you. They were all in disguise, not being stupid enough to appear in full Resistance uniform even on a place as calm as Sanctuary II. You nodded at him curtly. They didn’t need to know the whole story; the sad and depressing spiel of losing your only friends at the hands of the First Order a few years prior, of piloting for a rag-tag group of mercenaries and meditating with the Force in private at night. You were no Jedi, yet you knew the mere knowledge of someone possessing the Force was enough to make people change the way they viewed you.
Sith. Jedi. No.
You were neither. And you didn’t want to be anything more than a fighter, intent on helping end this war and suffering.
That’s what lead you to her; Leia Organa. Anyone with the Force knew who the fuck the Skywalker’s were, even if their mere memory was only etched in the wind. D’Qar was pleasant though; all green trees and soft breezes and crumbling clay on the ground that stuck to your skin. The Resistance Base was bigger than you’d ever imagined. Technicians, pilots, cadets and mechanics ran around incessantly as you focused on not tripping up behind the pilot, Elliot, as he walked you to the main control room.
“The General is through there,” He said quietly, shooting you a small smile. “She wanted to see you before allocating your bunk,” You nodded once, before heading into the dark building. The click clack of keyboards and blinking radar scanners hit you first, as technicians worked tirelessly to locate and track ships, to keep in touch with their pilots. At the centre of the room was a huge circular table, surrounded by cadets and commanders and all else as they plotted charts for upcoming missions. And at the head of it—
General Organa.
She looked up at you immediately, hitting your eyes with an unwavering stare, with eyes that had already seen too much destruction for one lifetime. Her smile was genuine though, as she strolled round to meet you. You dropped your bags to the floor and stuck out your hand, feeling her gentle fingers as they curled into your own. “So, you’re Elliot’s find?” She asked knowingly, looking you up and down in subtle judgement. “Does he know?”
Your heart skipped. “Know what, General?” You replied tentatively. She only scoffed, removing her hand from yours.
“I guess not, then,” She replied. “I assume you don’t want to broadcast this gift?” She said, lowering her voice slightly.
“The Force has never been something I’ve liked to hoard over others,” You admitted quietly. Since you’d discovered your gift, you’d kept it a secret. What, with the danger of the First Order finding out and killing you off before you could even think about joining the Jedi. It seemed the Force had only brought you more struggle, instead of clarity. But you still persisted; you meditated at night, you used it to your advantage when you could, but you’d never used it in a fight, never used it while piloting—
The most it gave you was vivid dreams. Dreams of the First Order, dreams of your past, dreams of your future.
“I can tell,” Leia said. “I can feel yours. It’s soft and gentle. So is your heart,” You couldn’t help it; you grimaced on demand, far too quickly to realise it could come across as rude. Leia only smirked slyly. “But I won’t tell anyone about that, either,” You nodded at her awkwardly, praying that she couldn’t sense the bubbling anxiety in your gut. You’d never met anyone else that could read your Force so effortlessly; Leia was the exception, and maybe that was an honour. “Come with me,”
You followed her as she strolled back past the main table, approaching a technician with a headset. You stayed a few paces back, not knowing where to stand just yet. The technician smiled up at her General, passing her the headset when Leia gestured to wanting it. She placed one headphone to her ear. “Black Leader, come in,”
“This is Black Leader,” A voice was just about audible, thanks to the other headphone going unused.
“Mission report,”
“Perimeter is clear. There have been zero disturbances. Black-Five keeps yawning over comms,” He added finally, and it was like you could hear his boyish smirk. You couldn’t help but smile as another voice cut through the communicator.
“General, this is Black-Five. Don’t listen to Black Leader, he’s picking on me to compensate for not being allowed to drink last night,” Her voice was soft but incredibly stern, making Leia laugh into the comms at their interaction. You’d never experienced such banter in a setting such as this. As much as you were focused on your duties wholeheartedly since finding Elliot, it was almost nice to hear the way pilots conversed with each other.
“Copy that, Black-Five. Your squadron is clear to return to base,” Leia said, the hint of a smile still on her lips. “Oh, and Dameron, we have a new recruit as of this evening. She’ll be bunking with you until other arrangements are finalised,”
“Copy that, General,” Black Leader; Dameron; said in understanding. “Is she cute?”
Your entire body buzzed as his comment hit your ears. Some small chuckles echoed throughout the control room as other technicians listened through their own headsets. The subtle graze of eyes skimmed over where you stood; arms crossed, body rigid, just trying to ride out the colossal wave of humiliation that was harboured beneath your skin. Now, that’s more like it. You’d been expecting a hierarchy such as this. When war raged, when fighters got tired and needed a distraction, it was practically second nature to indulge in sex.
Why not? If it brought some fun, some excitement, without the prospect of death around every corner?
As much as you’d been waiting for some type of comment, you hadn’t expected it to be so early on, and from someone who hadn’t even heard your voice, let alone seen you. From the way the technicians were utterly gushing over his comment, you could hazard a guess at what kind of person Dameron was; cocky, always smiling or shooting comments at women, playing the charming and utterly delicious Resistance bad-boy while everyone else sat and wondered about who his next conquest would be. Classic.
You stepped forward abruptly, bringing your mouth closer to the small microphone next to Leia’s face. “Keep this up if you want dirt in your bunk on my first night here, Black Leader,” The words sprouted easily, filtering through the comms until Dameron had listened to every syllable. “And yes. She’s cute,” You said finally, sterner than before, before stepping back to where you’d stood before.
The smile on Leia’s lips was enough to tell you you hadn’t fucked up on your first day, intercepting a comms relay between the General and Black Leader.
“Copy that, bunkmate,” Dameron said in reply. The way his words sounded made your body pang with annoyance. He’d enjoyed that back and forth. It only acted as a warning not to go there with this guy; it fuelled him, spurred him forward, gave him a gateway to an inevitable chase to get you to call him by his first name. You weren’t going to fall for it; you’d dealt with men like him before.
It was best not to indulge them in the slightest.
Leia showed you around, but you couldn’t help but feel your skin crawl at the way people stared. It wasn’t until you reached the mess hall that you realised the General didn’t usually do this— didn’t give new recruits the tour, didn’t talk to them like this before allocating a bunk or a position or anything— but she’d done it with you. Already, your Force abilities had made you stick out like a sore thumb; it only left the cadets with questions as to what made you so special. You hated being the centre of questions and wonders, you hated feeling like people were talking about you behind your back.
“Ah, here they are,” Leia spoke up, looking towards the squadron of X-Wings on the horizon. You dropped your bags to the floor, following Leia as she slowly approached the outside landing bays as ships descended to the ground. She was silent, observing pilots as they opened up their hatches and jumped from their cockpits, ruffling their hair after wearing helmets all day and patting each other on the shoulder in subtle celebrations towards another successful perimeter search.
You didn’t know which one Dameron was, until you sensed it— he jumped from his cockpit confidently, tossing his helmet aside as he immediately worked on the velcro of his jumpsuit, pulling it down from his shoulders and tying the arms around his waist. Dog-tags trickled from around his neck, next to the addition of a gold chain. His undershirt was prickled with sweat spots.
Maker, you knew you were staring, but not in the way anyone would have expected; you were scowling. He was annoyingly handsome, and you’d bet that he knew he was. The way he combed his fingers through his hair and scratched his stubbly chin all but made your gut coil. This brown eyed man had already made it clear who he was by his comms relay earlier on, and now that you were looking at him, all you could picture yourself doing to him was shoving a swift fist round his jaw.
“He’ll grow on you,” Leia chimed up suddenly. You flicked your eyes to her, noticing the way she was looking back over her shoulder at you slyly, witnessing you imagining your fist whacking around his sweat glistened cheek. You raised your brows at her as if to say are you sure about that? but she didn’t reply. She turned back to Black squadron, nodding at the respectful way they all greeted her as they walked towards the mess halls or their bunks. Dameron and another pilot approached you and Leia then, as Dameron removed his arm from around the shoulders of her.
“General,” He greeted her charmingly.
“Poe,” Leia regarded him, before turning to the second pilot. “Heidi. I hope you enjoy your post-perimeter search nap,” The pilot, Heidi, shot daggers at her squadron leader, bringing a swift elbow to land in his ribs. Poe flinched away from her, but had a smile on his face all the same. Heidi; Black-Five; she looked fierce. With dark skin and an afro securely out of her face with an elasticated hair scarf, she beamed at the General.
“I will, thank you, General. Some of us can hear Dameron’s snores from two bunks away, unfortunately,”
That’s when they both looked towards you. You stepped forward to stand in toe with Leia, trying not to look utterly mean as you reciprocated their stares. “It’ll be fun trying to drown out the noise with my pillow, then,” You spoke up, prompting a burst of laughter to come from Heidi’s lips, all at Poe’s expense.
“Good luck, honestly. I wish you all the best,” She added, before sticking out a hand to you. You took it confidently. “I’m Heidi Jones, Black-Five,” She said professionally, shaking your hand once before pulling away. You told her your name in return, but only your last name— no one needed to know your first name if they were never going to get to a point where they actually called you it.
First names were a no-go for you.
It meant more in places like the Resistance; friendship, instead of the acquaintanceship you got from a simple last name, or even your squadron rank.
Jones left after that, making a B-line for the showers and yawning as she went. That’s when you focused on Dameron, finally. You hit his eyes unwaveringly, not wanting to come across weakly. He looked at you tentatively, like a book he was trying to read, or a language he was trying to translate. He stuck his hand out silently, and you paused once, before wrapping your fingers around his knuckles.
“Bunkmate,” He said in recognition.
“Asshole,” You replied sternly. You ignored the way his lips curled in amusement, before he shot a look at Leia.
“I like her,”
You didn’t let his words go to your head, as you ducked back to pick up your bags. “Show her to the bunk, please, Poe,” Leia added. Poe nodded firmly, before turning back to you and reaching out a hand to grab one of your bags. You immediately backed away, sending him an amused look.
“I’ve got it,” You let out, and he waited a beat, before both of your headed off to the bunks. He was silent for most of the walk, but you could sense he was just waiting to ask you things. Maker, you’d dealt with men like this before, but none of them looked like Poe. It was enough to make you realise how long it had been, and then scowl at yourself for letting your mind trail to such thoughts. No way. Never.
Poe punched the button outside a bunk, waiting as the door wooshed up before he sauntered inside. It was a small dorm, with two beds and a desk with a mirror against the right wall. His bunk was to the right too, shoved in the corner with his duvet and sheets on the bottom level; clothes and gear littered the top bunk.
“Ah, cozy,” You let out, not bothering to hide your distain.
“Oh yeah, we all live in very close quarters here,” He replied, and you ignored the shit-eating grin he threw your way.
“I know how these things work, Dameron,” You stated, dropping your bags onto your bunk. He stood behind you, arms crossed, eyebrows raised as if he was amused about something. “I’m the newbie who’s bunking with a squadron leader. Not to mention they all got a show when they saw me with General Organa. This isn’t my first rodeo, so just… don’t do me any favours,”
You’d been around cadets and pilots and fighters too long to know that favouritism was a thing. From the stares you’d got after Leia walked you out of the control room, you were certain it wouldn’t be long until someone started blabbing about how you were different.
And you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to be different; you were all fighting for the same cause, the same team.
“Well, this is the first time someone’s asked me not to help them out,” He scoffed. You turned to him then, placing your hands on your hips.
“I’d much rather not have someone insinuating that I’m fucking way my to the top, when I’ve barely been here a day,”
Maybe you were too harsh, too crude, but Dameron’s face only transformed into a colossal boyish smirk.
“When did sex come into this, huh?” He chided.
“The ladies in the control room didn’t shut up about you,” You let out. “It wasn’t hard to put two and two together about the reputation you have on this base, Dameron,”
“Loveable rogue? Sexiest pilot in the galaxy? Poe, who fights hard but fucks harder?” He listed off his possible names, but you wouldn’t fall for it. Dameron was just another leader that you knew to steer clear from, even if he was your bunkmate. You’d been caught up in shit before and all it’d done was exhaust you. Men like Dameron turned women into nine year old girls, bickering about nothing, getting attached.
And getting attached in a place such as the Resistance was foolish. No one was ever going to call you by your first name— no fucking way.
You shoved past him to the door, smashing it open as the hydraulics wooshed it up. “All of the above,” You replied, before stepping out of the dorm, leaving Dameron behind. He didn’t stay away for long, as you heard the woosh of your dorm door rolling down once more, followed by the jogging pitter patter of his boots.
“You know an awful lot for a newbie,” He said, and you knew it was just a prompt to get you to talk about you.
“I’m going to refrain from answering any little prying questions you try and wiggle out of me, Dameron,” You admitted, and for once, you were the one smirking. He frowned beside you, but it wasn’t genuine.
“You’re good,” He finally admitted, and you let out a scoff.
“As cold and bitter as it sounds, I’m not here to make friends,” You stated, and Poe fucking laughed. It took you by surprise, as you both stopped walking by the bunks as he held his torso tightly, before letting out a sigh as he looked towards you.
“I know how that feels. That was my mentality, too,” He admitted, and you couldn’t help but frown. “These pilots and mechs and techs ended up becoming my family, as much as I fought against it,” He continued. “Don’t be surprised if you wake up one day and don’t hate me,” He said finally, but that was enough to get you to roll your eyes.
“You wish, pretty boy,” You let out, swivelling on your heels and walking away. Poe was right on your tail, jogging behind you to catch up.
“You think I’m pretty?”