When one thinks of joining a great cause, they might picture themselves in the thick of things. Fighting, leading, planning great battles and meeting with people of high rank on a regular basis.
You hardly, if ever, picture yourself making the meal plans.
Or scrubbing the dishes.
Or plopping the food onto people's plates.
Yet that was Zara Korrado's life. She was commissary staff, one of the few non-droids. It was glorious work. She got up even earlier than the early rising military personnel, she'd grumpily order the droids about as they went about the tasks assigned, and if one of the line workers was out (as seemed to happen way too often) she'd have to fill in for them.
Zara supposed even being this involved with the Resistance was something to be grateful for, having no formal training on anything. Really, nothing. Sure, she had some technical knowledge which helped out when something in the kitchen in the cafeteria fritzed out, and she could do minor repairs on the droids she helped oversee. She had basic medical knowledge, and a little bit more, but so did almost everyone else on the base. Troubleshooting was no problem for her, however troubleshooting was not high on the lists of qualities to use for promotions. Neither was someone with less skills than a med droid.
Bottom tier of the Resistance it was for her then.
Plus it gave her enough time to nurture her little girl crush on the most unattainable man on base, the Resistance, the Republic, the whole expanse of the galaxy.
And really, who could blame her? Poe Dameron, pilot extraordinaire of the Republic and Resistance, was a very handsome man who had a ready smile for nearly everyone. As much as she told her stomach not to flip and her heart not stutter when he grinned at her, if she happened to be working the line when he came by, because he smiled at everyone else the same way, well, neither listened.
Still, day dreaming about his face did help pass time when she was wiping down tables or stacking chairs. So what if she was a grown woman? She was allowed to be a little frivolous, wasn't she? Those little smiles were enough to keep her moral up when she got low. Besides, she was barely (if anything) a little blip on his radar, he had no idea who she was aside from the woman who would occasionally place bland food on his plate.
Which is why, as she was moving tables back to their proper positions, because apparently taking all the tables from the middle and pushing them to one side for no reason other than to interrupt the preprogrammed route of the cafeteria droids was a great idea, Zara was startled when someone cleared their throat behind her. She cursed, they were interrupting good quality grumbling time. Complaining near superiors earned stern talks and threats of discipline.
Her frown immediately disappeared when she turned around and saw Poe standing there. She was sure the frown was replaced with a look of stupidity.
"Zara, right?"
Tempted to look around, because really why would he be talking to her, Zara shoved jutted her hip to one side and place a hand on said hip. Apparently it was what her mind thought was "smooth" and carried out the action before she could nix it.
"Uh, yeah. How can I help you?" she asked, praying that something hadn't fallen into his food or he got sick from one of the dishes she'd occasionally make to give people a bit of variety.
"I'm having a problem with my datapad. I heard you were the person to see."
Zara hoped the smile she gave him didn't look as forced as she felt it did. "Right, let me take a look."
If someone had a problem with a piece of personal technology, or small droid, while they were in the cafeteria, it had become fairly common for them to seek her out since she stopped someone trying to smash their ill working piece of tech and fixed it.
Poe gave her another smile, and if she could she would have kicked both her heart and stomach, before handing over the malfunctioning item. "The screen started to glitch, as if it was breaking up while receiving a vid or holo message with a bad signal but doing it all the time."
Taking it, she looked it over checking for any external damage, before taking a seat at one of the tables she had been moving. Not trusting her tongue not to trip over itself, Zara placed the datapad on the table as she opened a side pocket on her pants and took out her small set of tools she now carried for such occasions as this.
Poe patiently watched her a she worked, taking a seat across from her. He knew how to work on his X-wing, his droid and a few other related things, but something that seemed so simple eluded him on how to repair it.
"This is a Versafunction, right?" she asked, her eyebrows drawn together in concentration.
"Yeah," Poe acknowledged.
She nodded as if this was the information she was looking for. "Careful if you drop it, they have a problem with sending out their units unsealed on their last few models." Gently she removed the back cover and gently blew on a few internal components. Zara placed the cover back on and pushed on a corner before turning it around and turning it back on. The screen lit up as if it there had never been anything wrong.
'Oh thank the stars that work,' she thought. Usually dirt inside datapads was the death of them. Thankfully her little trick worked. "They forget to activate the seal in production. So you drop it in the dirt, or anywhere that is even slightly unclean, the little dust particles will sneak right in and interfere with the circuitry inside. You're lucky it wasn't worse, it would have been the end of your Versafunction."
The pilot took the datapad as she gave it back to him. He checked it over, as if he was expecting it to change shape or something. "That's amazing, thank you, I would never had even thought to check that."
Zara shrugged. "It was nothing."
"I disagree." He placed the datapad back on the table. "What do I owe you?"
She looked taken aback. "Um, nothing. I don't charge."
He laughed, and it was just as bad for her as his smile. "You should, Zara, you really should. I hate to have to go, but I've got to make a report – made so much easier now that this is working." He stood up and gave her another smile.
It was good thing she decided to stay in her seat because his laugh followed closely by his smile would not have allowed her legs to fully function right then.
"I'll see you around then, Zara. Thanks again."
All she could managed was a nod and smile, accompanied by a little wave as he turned and gave her one in return before exiting the cafeteria.
Once she was sure she was gone, she placed her head on the table. 'You are hopeless, woman, completely hopeless,' she thought to herself. 'Poe Dameron gives you a few smiles and you barely manage to keep you lungs working.'
Why did he have to be so nice and good looking? If he was a jerk but still had nice face, she'd have no problem telling her brain that he was just something to look at. It would listen. But nice and handsome. Her brain didn't want to listen to her. It didn't want to fully understand that a guy like that didn't fall for a kitchen lady, didn't give her a second look.
It wasn't until much later, after her shift was over and she was changing out of her clothes that her eyes lingered on her name patch. It took a moment to realize that it only had her last name on it. It didn't say "Zara Korrado". Just "Korrado". Having never talk to Poe before, how did he know her name?
"Must have gotten it from whoever referred him to me," she thought out loud, before tossing her clothes into her laundry bag.
Or maybe. . .
(No brain, shut up, there is no maybe. Carry on as normal. No other fantasies are allowed beyond him smiling. And laughing, and – nope. Just smiling, brain, let's keep it to the smiling.)
