Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, only Bay.

Every night, she had the same dream. Or, nightmare, really. There was a silhouette holding a bright red lightsaber, children screaming-that was all she would remember in the morning.

She knew what it was, though; a vision of the past, not something she had witnessed, sent through or by the Force for some reason. Maybe just to torment her.

She snorted, pausing for a moment in her work in the cockpit of an X-wing and drying her hands on a grease rag. The Force was funny that way-it was somewhat impossible to tell whether it was the Force as an entity sending her that vision, or if it was a jedi or sith or other force-sensitive being sending it to her to annoy or scare her.

She flipped on her plasma torch and welded a piece of the console back together, pushing the vision to the back of her mind. It wasn't causing any real problems for her yet, so there was no reason to dwell on it.

"Hey, Bay!"

"Hey, Snap," She turned to her semi-boss after turning off the torch and pushed her goggles up onto her forehead. "How goes your morning?"

"Eh, decent enough," the mechanic shrugged, then held up a flakey pastry in her line of sight. She leaned slightly out of the popped-up cockpit to see better. If he was bribing her with food that wasn't shitty protein rations, she'd do anything. "Jess brought back some baked good from her leave-"

Bay leapt out of the cockpit, jarring her calves slightly as she landed on the floor of the hangar, and shoved her plasma torch into Snap's waiting hands and took off for Jess's Y-wing that had entered only a few minutes before, where she was likely chatting with her squadron.

"I was told there was food," Bay interrupted the squadron's conversation unashamedly, but avoided eye contact with the other members.

Jessika Pava was her roommate and best friend, the only person aside from General Organa and a few other leaders of the Resistance that knew who she was. They'd gotten along the moment Jess moved from the Republic to the Resistance, despite various circumstances including Bay's need to keep her head down. However, Bay maintained a relatively quiet persona around everyone else and therefore didn't know Jess's squadron, her other best friends, at all, preferring to duck out of social events that they invited her to or victory celebrations.

It wasn't that she didn't like the pilots, or that they made her uncomfortable, even. It was, unfortunately, a necessity that she keep a low profile and a fairly small social circle. Given that every one of the pilots in the Black Squadron was extremely intelligent, it was extremely important that she avoid them-especially their Commander. Not that it was her choice, anyway.

She was at least allowed her friendship with Pava, and she was grateful for that.

So, she wasn't exactly surprised by the quizzical looks on the squadron's faces when she cheerily popped out of nowhere. Jess, unperturbed, handed her a pastry with little preamble, other than "My mom made them." Bay immediately sank her teeth into it, delighted.

She gave Jess a quick hug after her first bite, and joked, "It's amazing what butter, salt, flour, and sugar can do for you after months of protein rations."

"You're welcome," Jess replied, grinning. "Betcha wish you had a mom like mine."

"You have no idea," Bay took another bite and quickly swallowed. "My mom could burn water, and I'm not sure if it's impressive or horrifying."

"I see where you get your talent, then," Jess quipped, and smirked at her. Bay shrugged.

"Fair enough. Later, J," she gave her roommate a two-fingered salute and pivoted, making her way back to the X-wing she was supposed to be finishing up, expertly weaving her way through the morning influx of messengers with data pads. Before she was out of earshot, though, she heard the commander, and she ducked behind another ship to listen.

"You know, she seems pretty fun, at least when she's not avoiding everyone."

"She's not avoiding anyone, Poe, she's just…" Jess sighed. "There's good reason for it, I promise. It's not her fault she comes off as…"

"Standoffish?"

"Well, yeah. It's just-she feels like she has to, I guess, and it might be true."

Bay grimaced, no longer hungry. She walked away, handing off the half-eaten pastry to a passing mechanic, who quietly rejoiced. She settled back into her work, and into her thoughts.

It was hard, having to maintain a facade, pretending to be someone she wasn't. She wanted so badly to join in on conversations, to joke around with everyone else on the base, to fly with a squadron-but she couldn't risk someone finding out who and what she was. If there was a spy on base, or if an officer on leave got particularly mouthy, the First Order would find out, and they'd only be more driven to find their base.

She closed the cockpit around her, and looked at herself in the reflection of the newly-cleaned glass. It was a wonder someone hadn't figured it out yet. Her sandy blonde hair, freckled and tanned skin, bright blue eyes, and slightly clefted chin-she was the spitting image of her father. It was why her aunt so often asked her to hide her smile when she could, because anyone who had seen old holovids of Luke Skywalker would immediately know. Not to mention, if she so much as took a ship on a test run, they'd have her pinned. Hell, she couldn't even go by her own name. Or visibly carry a lightsaber.

She frowned at her own reflection, and got back to work. At least she could help the Resistance in some way, even if it was just by repairing ships.

Snap had caught on to her diminished mood, and had sent her off to droid repair to be on her own and to enjoy somewhat more pleasant company-at least, company that wouldn't constantly be trying to get her to socialize.

There was no real work to be done-the most of what she had to do was to direct an orange and white BB unit to the oil bath as it complained about scouring damage. Otherwise, she was left to her own devices as the unit chirped happily in the background, answering its occasional questions.

She propped her boots up on the workbench, crossed her arms, and frowned at the oh so familiar R2 unit that sat unresponsive in the corner. Bay was a child the last time she'd seen Artoo in action, and although he was just a droid, she missed him deeply. Not only was he an incredibly profane droid, he was also incredibly resourceful, and a friend. There wasn't a day that went by that she didn't try to reactivate him, and this was no exception. But the attempt hadn't worked, and she was tired and frustrated with trying. There wasn't much more she could try, considering this time she'd attempted to go through his circuits and activate him using the Force, but had hit some kind of block. It was incredibly discouraging.

BB-8 whistled questioningly from his oil bath, as the oil was retracted and he was dried off and polished automatically. Bay smiled back at him.

"I'm just thinking about what else I can do to try and get Artoo back online," she explained, and turned back to Artoo. "Don't worry, buddy. I'm fine." BB-8 chirped in disagreement, and she cracked a grin. "Yes, I get frustrated when I can't solve a problem. But if I can't solve it, then someone else will, and that's okay."

The rolling unit came over to where she was, and gave Artoo a gentle tap with his domed head, and chirped another question.

"No, electrocuting Artoo won't work," Bay replied, and then muttered, "I've already tried like three times." The droid made a displeased noise and rolled away from Artoo and back to her, looking up at her. "Relax, Beebee-Ate, I just don't have much to do right now and I usually consider Artoo when that happens."

The droid whistled, nodding, and took an experimental spin around the room.

"Figures that a droid would tell me to get out and socialize," Bay grumbled, putting her feet back on the ground and standing up to stretch. She winced and then snickered as BB-8 gave an indignant chirp from across the room. "Sorry." She took a few steps toward Artoo, and leaned down to brush some of the dust off of his head, smiling a little. "Wonder what you could tell me about my dad if you were awake, little guy."

BB-8 chirped something rapidly that she didn't quite catch, but she didn't turn around.

"You should probably get back to your master, buddy. Wouldn't be surprised if they go off on a mission today," she said, frowning, a little distracted as she again probed through the unit's circuits with the Force, looking for anything amiss or any way to get past the block.

"Actually, we're grounded for a few days, and I decided to come pick up Beebee-Ate myself for once." Bay whirled around, startled by Commander Dameron's entrance, and quickly got to her feet.

"Commander," she greeted, nodding slightly and shooting a look of betrayal at BB-8.

"Any significant problems with him?" Dameron asked, making direct eye contact that immediately made Bay uncomfortable.

"Nope," she crossed her arms and shuffled her feet, breaking her gaze and again looking toward the droid. "He just had some scouring complaints, nothing that can't be solved by a short oil bath. He's made a couple of test rolls around the room and everything looks to be going smoothly."

"Good," Dameron nodded, winking at BB-8 for a reason Bay couldn't fathom and then turned to face her directly. "What have you been working on in the meantime?"

Bay refrained from wrinkling her nose in confusion, instead gesturing over to Artoo. "Trying to get that unit back online," Poe blinked at her, and she shrugged. "Think I've hit a block, though, doubt anyone but Skywalker himself knows how to reactivate him."

Her own reaction to saying her father's name out loud was immediate, and she failed to fight back a wince and scrubbed a hand over her face. She shouldn't have said that. But Poe didn't do anything more than move to consider Artoo, crouching down and tilting his head in a way that Bay found amusing despite the circumstances.

"What kind of block?"

"I'm not really sure," she said quickly, joining him by the droid, feeling herself warming to the subject. "I haven't found anything notable in his circuitry that could be causing the issue, and everything should work just fine-" she reached over to press a few buttons on Artoo's side, and nothing happened. "He should activate with that sequence. There's nothing wrong with his power source or anything like that, there's nothing physically there that should prohibit his activation."

She felt Dameron look over at her. "Nothing there physically?"

"Well," she drew out the word and chewed the inside of her lip, and took a moment to consider her options.

The General, her aunt, kept saying she could trust Dameron with the truth, but that it was entirely her choice. It had been entirely a mistake that Jess had figured it out, and she was petrified when she had. Would it be so bad to slowly let someone else in on the secret? That she could have been a Jedi, had the various attempts at making another school not been destroyed? That Luke Skywalker was her father?

Maybe she could just start by dropping hints. She didn't think she was ready to just say it outright, considering her own reaction at hearing or saying her own father's name. She was still angry and raw about everything-but it could help to have another person know.

Bay sighed, and fully dropped the facade, including what precautions she'd put in place to keep herself from automatically reaching out with the Force. She looked over at Dameron, and offered him a small smile.

"I'll be honest here, I haven't physically been going through Artoo's circuits, per say," she felt her lip twitch slightly, and started to grin a little sheepishly.

Poe raised an eyebrow at her, "So how exactly have you been doing it?" Bay lifted a hand and placed it on Artoo's head.

"I've been using the Force to look and feel my way around, with some success. The circuits were originally fried when I first started looking at him, but I fixed them no problem," she chanced a glance at Poe and found him looking skeptical. "I thought I was getting somewhere, but I quite literally hit a block, just not the physical kind. I'm not sure of the source, but it keeps me from getting any further into Artoo's activation mechanism."

Poe sat back on his heels, his eyes narrowed, and Bay rolled her eyes.

"Look, if you need proof I guess I can just lift something up, or you can go to General Organa-"

"No, that's not necessary," Poe interrupted, and stood up. To Bay's surprise, he offered her a hand up. She took it, and was further surprised when he kept a hold of her hand when she was standing.

"Are you sure? I promise I'm not crazy or anything."

"The General already told me."

Bay stopped cold, and stepped back, eyeing him carefully. "What did she tell you, exactly?"

Maybe her reaction was too much, but she was suddenly nervous. After all, it had been a long time since anyone knew, and the fact that it hadn't really been her decision to let Dameron in on it… It kind of sucked a little. But, to Dameron's credit, he didn't react negatively to her sudden change but instead raised both hands in a placating gesture.

"She told me about who you are, and what you can do, as well as why you keep it a secret," he explained, taking a step toward her.

"So, everything, basically," Bay crossed her arms again, and frowned. "Not ideal, not for me, anyway."

"Would you have told me everything so quickly?" Poe asked, lowering his hands and stuffing them into the pockets of his jacket. Bay shrugged.

"No, but I would have liked some warning. Or, I don't know…" she looked away, she knew what the problem was. "I guess I'm not really okay with anyone knowing, actually."

"What do you mean?" Poe asked, and leaned against her workbench next to her. Bay fought against the instinct to move away.

"Being known as the daughter of Luke Skywalker isn't something I really care for," she muttered, feeling bitterness rise in her throat. "My father is known for being an amazing Jedi, and a hero of the galaxy."

"Big shoes to fill."

Bay snorted. "That's not an issue. The problem is that everyone else knows him as a hero, but I just know him as the father that abandoned me because he couldn't stand to look at me after my mother died."

She heard Poe suck in a breath in surprise, and felt him turn to her. She grimaced and covered her face with her hand.

"Yeah, shouldn't have said that. Sorry. I should, uh," she cleared her throat and rubbed her palms against her legs, back to avoiding eye contact. "I should get back to work in the hangar," she murmured, and quickly left the repair room. She knew he was about to say something, but she didn't want to hear it, too sensitive to the subject matter.

She paused in the hall, considering going to her aunt and demanding an explanation. But she was busy, she could feel that, and it was best that she just accept her decision and move on. Dameron was her right-hand man, after all, so it made sense for the General to trust him with information about her family.

So, she moved on past the hangar, knowing she wasn't needed, and moved outside into the sun. She could use some time with nature to calm her mind.

A/N: As said in summary, this is more of a test for me. I'm not entirely sure whether I'll continue this, it's more just something I felt like doing, and will most likely update sporadically. Not sure how far it'll go, but I do have some fun ideas! Also, I love Poe. Very much. Thank you JJ for these good new characters.

Review if you want, tell me what you think about it and what I should do with it, if I should continue, etc. Thanks homies