Poe smashed his helmet against the wall of the hangar. His fist was balled up inside, so he didn't feel the shock wave of brick slamming against aluminum the first time, but he felt it the second time, and definitely the third time.

In frustration, he stared down at his hand as he flexed his fingers inside his gloves. He felt pain travel up his arm to his shoulder, which was already throbbing from the beating he'd taken during the mission. In fact, all he felt was pain anymore. Pain. Disappointment. Anger. Frustration. Rinse and repeat. Just another day in the Resistance.

Around him, the rest of his squadron filed out from the briefing room. Some gave him encouraging, supportive pats on the shoulder. Others avoided him all together. Poe didn't blame them. After a failed mission like this, they knew it was wise to stay away.

Reluctantly, he swallowed the pain and the regret of the mission and headed off towards the hunk of smoking metal that was his X-wing. More regret swept over him when he took in the damage he'd sustained. He loved his ship more than most did, and was - much to the General's chagrin - emotionally attached to the thing. He owed it more tender loving care than he showed it, which brought a guilty smile to his face.

One day, I'll learn, Poe thought.

Until then, he would make a mental list of what he needed the mechanics to work on and would to call it quits for the day.

With his helmet cradled against his hip, Poe's next task was to go in search of BB-8. His faithful droid was likely already reporting the long log of infractions against his ship to the hangar's resident Utility Droid. As such, he started off in that direction, but was stopped by an unfamiliar voice behind him.


Shayavi had to see who dented up the X-wing that was just brought into the hangar. She had to. She may have been new to the Resistance efforts, but she wasn't new to repairing starfighters. This one had more dents, scrapes, and leakage coming from it than any other of its kind that she could remember as a mechanic. It looked beyond repair in some parts, but she could handle it. It's why she was called up personally by General Organa herself. But after a first glance, Shayavi had to hand it to the pilot; whoever flew that thing had some real guts.

Taking a spot near the briefing room, Shay waited as the pilots finished reporting to the General. She stood silently, leaning against the wall with one leg bent at the knee and the foot of her boot pressed against the wall. She eyed each of the pilots as they passed by, wondering which one of them was the ballsy pilot of the dented X-wing. None of them noticed her, of course; they were withdrawn and tired, which wasn't a surprise. The loss of the mission was visible in their downcast eyes. Shayavi had heard over the comms how the mission went. It was disheartening to hear, and she sympathized with each of the defeated-looking pilots as they wandered off to whatever the rest of their night held for them.

A commotion came from down the long line of parked ships, causing Shay to stand at attention. The sound was a rapid banging against the wall, not too far from where she stood. She trotted off towards the source of the sound, but just as quickly as it started - it stopped. She halted when the sound did, waiting to hear if there would be more.

Although nothing but silence followed, her natural curiosity was now officially peaked. She started walking again, her mind filling with possibilities. If someone was destroying equipment out of frustration, it was part of her responsibility to end the harm being done, but if it wasn't-

She stopped in her tracks when she came around the landing gear of a nearby ship, finding herself staring at the back of the pilot of the battered X-wing. He was holding his helmet in one hand, flexing his opposite hand and groaning softly as he stared down at it. He was still a ways away, but Shayavi knew she found the source of both the commotion and the dented ship.

She watched as the pilot looked up at the ship for a moment, then headed away and off towards the opposite side of the hanger.

Oh no you don't, Shayavi thought with a smirk.

She trotted after him, and when she was finally within earshot, she called to him with the first thing that came to mind.

"Hey Troublemaker! Got a sec?"


Poe turned on his heel so fast he felt pain in his shoulder all over again. He winced as it ran the length of his neck to the base of his head. One of his hands went instinctively to the source of the pain while his eyes adjusted to the source of the mocking voice. "Excuse me?" he asked, rubbing the kink in his neck.

"You heard me." Shayavi smiled, her fists resting on her hips as she took in the sight of the pilot. "You the owner of that?" She gave a half-nod back towards the ship.

Poe hesitated. Not only was the woman who called him Troublemaker now asking him about his ship, but she was not human. Not really, anyway. She was Pantoran, by a quick look of things: blue skin, golden eyes, violet hair. And she was beautiful. No, she was stunning.

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Hey - you still with me? You're not in shock or something, are you?"

He leaned his head back from her fingers and frowned. "No?! Why? Wait - did you call me Troublemaker?"

"Yes." She blinked, and her gold eyes centered on him. "That's not your name?"

Poe sighed and turned away from her. "Look, I'm too tired for this right now. I lost a lot of men tonight and I just want left alone..."

"...Okay, okay, I came on too strong. I get it" Shayavi replied, still following him. "But at least tell me how you did it."

Not wanting to be completely rude, Poe looked over his shoulder at her as he kept walking. "Did what?"

"Banged your ship up like that. You must be damn talented to put it through all that torture and still be able to bring it back in for repairs."

This brought Poe to a stop. He turned and studied the Pantoran woman from beneath his brow, trying to hold back his growing sense of pride. "You're complimenting me?" He studied her more closely this time, taking in her full image. She wore a tan colored boilersuit, a tool belt, and...was that a blaster?

"Of course I am. What else would I be doing?" She folded her arms over her chest. "To be honest, your X-wing is the first ship that might actually provide a challenge for me, which is exactly what I've been craving."

Poe saw the smirk that appeared on her face following this and realized she meant no harm. He shook his head and looked down, feeling suddenly bashful. "Well that's, uh...that's a nice change." He lifted his gaze to her once more and leaned in. "Normally I'm getting the second degree from the General for it" he uttered.

The Pantoran woman laughed, and the sound of it lifted a bit of the heaviness in Poe's weary heart.

"As you should." She patted him on the shoulder with a healthy smile. "Can't say I blame the General one bit."

With this small joke, Poe let the last of his guard down. He extended a hand to her and smiled. "Poe Dameron."

She clasped her hand in his and shook firmly. "Shayavi Pewcha. 'Shay' for short."

He gave her an approving nod. "Alright, Shay." He smiled, his eyes transfixed on hers. "I, uh...I have to find my BB-8 unit-"

"-Right, yeah, of course" Shay stuttered. Their hands parted, and she took one step back, acknowledging his need to leave.

Poe's eyes flicked towards his X-wing. "Have fun fixing my challenge of a ship." There was a new light that danced in his dark eyes as he said this, and this detail was not lost on Shay. He gave her one final nod, then turned to leave.

Shay waited behind, watching after him. He was, all things considered, not the type of pilot she expected to meet. She wondered if that was the odd feeling that came over in that moment. Whatever it was, she shook it off. She'd need all her wits about her if she was going to attempt to do the needed repairs to Dameron's ship.


Tension in the Resistance over the following days waned little by little. Thoughts of the last mission faded and sights were set ahead on the next one, which would be as crucial as the last. It seemed with each passing day, missions became more and more vital.

It was also one of the reasons why Shay had been called up to join the Resistance. General Organa had heard through the ranks that a friend's daughter was working underground for the Resistance at an outpost on Orto Plutonia. More than ever, General Organa needed special people, and she needed them in person, on-site and in the thick of battle. When General Organa called up Shayavi Pewcha, she didn't hesitate in answering that call.

Now, Shay sat among the other mechanics at a lengthy table in the mess hall on board the Resistance transport. They talked lightly over their breakfast, discussing their latest endeavors and what they were repairing and the various challenges they faced. Much of the discussion was laced with inside-jokes that Shay wasn't keen to just yet. The small group was more than accepting of her, but she'd been there only a week. She was still getting used to everyone and everything, and found herself observing more than contributing to the conversation at hand.

She allowed her eyes to wander across the mess hall, where various groups and ranks came and went. The pale brown colors of Resistance uniforms were intermixed with the dark orange flight suits of the pilots who sat with them. She found herself absentmindedly scanning for one particular pilot, but was interrupted by the clamor at the table.

"Isn't that right, Shay?"

"Hmm?" She turned her attention back to those around her.

One of her closer friends, Catlin, sat beside her and nudged her in the arm. "We're talking about that mess of an X you're stuck working on."

"Oh! Right...right..." She brought a morsel of her breakfast to her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "Quite a bucket of bolts, that one."

"Isn't that Dameron's?" asked Wyle. He was a bright-headed ginger who'd been with the Resistance for the longest. If anyone would know, it'd be him.

Another mechanic, a Mirialan by the name of Shili, groaned when she heard the name. "I'd rather work on anyone's ship than his."

Shay's brow furrowed curiously. "Why's that?" she asked, mouth full.

Shili rolled her eyes. "It's like he's trying to get himself killed. I think it'd be annoying to constantly fix that ship of his."

"Shili" Cat said, glaring at her.

"What?" Shili's blue eyes stared back at them. "He's always got something wrong with it - even on an easy mission. I'm just saying...I wouldn't want to spend my entire life fixing something I know is just going to get broken again and again."

"To be fair, isn't that every ship in the Resistance anymore?" Cat said, hoping to ease the mood.

A few laughed at this, but Shay sat silently, taking it all in. Across the table, Wyle was staring at Shili angrily. "You shouldn't talk like that about Poe. He's the best we've got."

Shili shrugged. "So? He's a pain in the ass."

"He sacrifices himself over and over for us" Wyle retorted. "For you." It was clear that he was becoming heated; his otherwise pale skin was now flushed pink.

Shay watched as Wyle got his tray and look leave of the table, obviously irritated more than he let on. Shili looked at the others at the table for backup, but no one spoke a word.

"I mean, he is the best we have" Shili said, trying to backtrack.

The others seated about stared down at their trays, turning back to the food that had been ignored up until this point. Shili looked at Shay, but Shay shrugged. She wasn't sure what to say, or whether what she wanted to say would make things worse or better. She was just the mechanic of his plane. Didn't matter what else she felt on the matter.

"Good morning, Ladies."

Shay looked over her shoulder as the others at the table stood at attention. She wasted no time in doing the same, turning to face General Organa as she came forward to address them.

"At ease" she said, waving a hand at them. "I'm not here to order you around, I promise." She smiled kindly, but her eyes centered on Shay. "May I have a word with you, Pewcha?" Her glanced at the others. "In private?"

"Of course, General." Shay left her tray and the others at the table as General Organa led her towards a private office near the entrance to the mess hall. Once they were inside, Shay had to ask, "Is this something I should be worried about? Or..."

The General looked amused. "Not whatsoever." She straightened her spine and studied Shay with pride. "Did I ever tell you about the time your father and I met? During the days of the Empire?"

Shay shook her head. "I've not had the privilege of that story yet, no." She felt butterflies somewhere in her stomach. Having General Organa speak privately with you was one thing, but having her mention the 'days of the Empire' with you in private was a whole other, and Shay felt suddenly young and green in her presence.

Leia looked down at her hands with a smile, remembering a time in her past that brought a tiny smile to her aged face. "Your father was a handful, if I remember correctly - my mind is all over the place these days, what with everything going on." She gestured out the window to the deep space beyond.

Shay nodded, fully understanding, but smiling nonetheless.

"I always had to keep an eye on him. It helped that he was Pantoran, because at least I could pick him out of a crowd when I was lecturing the pilots" Leia added. "He was one of my most dependable, and one of the more interesting due to his method of execution. " She gave Shay a sideways glance that spoke of more than she was telling, the smartness of her demeanor showing itself fully in her wily smile.

"Sounds like my father" Shay replied with a laugh. "It's a relief to know he had you guiding him; to rein that energy in, I mean."

Leia pointed a finger at her and nodded. "That's exactly why I'm talking to you right now, and I'm glad you understand what I'm getting at."

Shay frowned. "I do?" Leia eyed her again, and Shay quickly changed her tune. "Yes - I do."

"You do" Leia repeated. "Because you've been assigned Dameron's ship and there's no greater challenge than that. He is, by all accounts, exactly like your father - and I need you to accompany him on this next mission."

Shay's breath was caught momentarily. "You want me to what?"

"Dameron needs monitoring, and his ship all but needs a personal escort at this point" Leia said with some distaste.

Shay couldn't disagree. She'd been working on the ship and saw how he treated it, so the General knew what she was up against. Still, the thought of being a Resistance pilot's private mechanic on a real mission...

Kind of bad ass, not gonna lie, she thought with some pleasure.

"That's where you come in" Leia continued. "Dameron's ship log shows you've already repaired 85% of the damage sustained from his last mission." She looked at Shay proudly. "That's rather impressive."

With downcast eyes, Shay modestly accepted the compliment. "Thank you, General."

"Knowing how upset he was after the last mission, I suspect he'll be going twice as hard in the next one, so he's going to need some repairs along the way." Leia shook her head, already exhausted with the thought of it all.

Shay hesitated. "But...General Organa...I've only been here a week, and I've only worked on his X-wing for a few days."

"So?" Her brown eyes centered on her. "Did you miss the part about you repairing 85% of his ship already?"

Shay blinked, surprised by her quick tongue. "No...I just-"

"I wouldn't have asked you if I don't think you're capable." Leia, realizing she'd become more General than she liked, took a step forward. She cupped Shay's face tenderly, her voice lowering. "I can't afford to lose anymore of the good ones than I already have. I don't make these decisions lightly, my dear."

It was as motherly of a gesture as any, and Shay was both honored and humbled. Both women shared a smile, and then a hug, before parting. As Shay went to leave, she turned and looked back at General Organa once more. "I won't let you down, General."

Leia smiled. "I know you won't, hun." She bowed her head to her. "May the Force be with you."

Shay bowed her head as well. "May the Force be with you."