Warnings: Usage of explicit language.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything involving the Star Wars Universe other than a POP Poe figurine. All characters belong to their creators. Seraphine and other OCs are my personal characters unless otherwise mentioned.
Author's Note: So apparently the thing I do best is procrastinating homework, so here is the next chapter. Yah. Thank you for the support and please let me know what you think!
Chapter Two - His Mission
Everything hurt. He gasped for air, and everything hurt. Something was pulling on his arm, pulling him out of the sand, but he couldn't focus on that. Everything hurt. Soon his eyes were blinded by the sun and tried as he did he could not focus them. Lights and black splotches danced across his vision, and he turned his attention to the figure still pulling him, till he was completely free from the sand.
"Finn." He managed to gasp, but the figure just tilted it's head.
Then he was only surrounded by darkness. Peaceful darkness where he felt no pain.
Where he felt nothing.
(a few hours later)
When he woke up, Poe Dameron jolted himself forward and immediately regretted it. His hands flew to his ribs, and he could tell that they had been carefully wrapped. He quickly ran himself over. Injuries, check, pounding headache, check, alive, check. He was alive. He was alive! He started to chuckle to himself. He was somehow alive.
He started to look around him, but it took a few seconds for his eyes to completely adjust to the darkness. He was in some sort of room with machinery, but it looked old and run down. He had no idea where he was. Then his eyes settled on the figure who was leaning against the wall directly across from him. Just staring at him.
His hand immediately went to his side where he normally kept his blaster, but he was met only with empty air. He clicked his tongue and remembered how the First Order Troopers had taken it from him the day before. Or the night before. Was it still the same night, or the next night? How much time had passed? A week? A month? He couldn't tell.
His mission. Everything slowly came rushing back to him. His mission, the force worshippers, BB-8 and the map, the stormtroopers, Ben, no Kylo Ren, the escape, Finn. He chuckled to himself again. He was alive. He had managed to land, well, somewhat land, that crashing tie-fighter. He was alive, he chuckled again.
Wait. Finn!
"Finn?" He gasped, his throat screaming at him as he did. It felt sore and swollen and hurt to swallow let alone talk. He could still hear his own screams echoing in the back of his mind, but he pushed it down. Deep down.
The figure tilted his head and then slowly shook it. Poe's heart dropped. Finn was a good man. He had saved his life. But there was no time to mourn, not till after the war was won, and his universe was freed from the First Order. He needed to complete his mission.
He needed to find BB-8.
He looked at the man who was still standing on his side of the room, just watching him in silence. He was wrapped from head to toe in layers on layers of rags and had his whole face covered, and appeared to be humanoid. His position was tense, with his arms crossed. He was standing on the side closer to the door and had his bag right beside him, obviously prepared for a quick and easy escape if that was necessary.
This man knew what he was doing. Poe's big problem was if he was a friend or a foe. He needed to complete his mission, and he knew he was a very wanted man. He always needed to be on the top of his game, the tip of toes, no matter how much his head was killing him.
"Who are you?" Poe questioned, his voice gravely and painful.
The man did not respond, instead throwing him something that Poe barely managed to catch, wincing as he did. He glanced at the water sack in his hand, and watching the man carefully from across the room as he drank from it. The man was watching him just as carefully, the lack of trust obvious with the tension in the room. He was grateful for the water though, it felt amazing against his sore throat and his head stopped hurting quite as bad. He was distracted from a moment, distracted from the situation around him as the water eased his pain, but that moment was gone as quickly as the water was.
He threw the water sack back to the man who caught it neatly and tossed the now empty bottle into his bag. "Who are you?" Poe repeated, but still did not receive a response. The man simply remained staring at him, so Poe put on his famous mask.
"My name is," Poe hesitated for a split second before saying the very first name he thought of "Yolo Ziff. Thank you for helping me." Yolo Ziff? Yolo was the first name he thought of, seriously? He supposed that Yolo was the one to thank for that propaganda poster that showed everyone his face, but it got them some recruits so he couldn't complain. If he survives this and Yolo finds out about this part, he could never hear the end of it.
But the man continued to remain silent. Poe hesitated and then casually asked "Do you speak Basic?" The man nodded, so Poe returned to his signature smile. He did not like this situation, he needed to get out of here and start looking for BB-8.
The man reached into his bag and then threw another item to Poe's feet. Poe's eyes narrowed as he looked at the handcuffs that now rested beside him. That answered his question, this man was a foe. And most likely knew who he was. He really need to get out of here.
He did not move, only stared back at the man, but when the man reached down beside him and held up his blaster, Poe bit his tongue. It was just his luck that he was always getting himself into these kind of situations. Slowly Poe clipped the handcuffs onto his own arms, purposely leaving them loose enough that he would be able to escape if given the opportunity.
He glanced up at the man, who apparently not noticed the handcuffs were not on the way they should be and was gesturing for Poe to get up. The pilot obeyed and followed the man's commands to exist the door as well.
When he stepped out, the sand crunched under his heel and the sky was barely lit by the moon. He was able to make out a speeder, just a few steps ahead of him and he already had formulated a plan. The man continued to hold a gun to him watching him carefully, before turning to secure his bag to the speeder.
That is when Poe made his move, throwing his arms over the man's neck and using the handcuffs to strangle him. Poe was much larger and taller, using his strength to his advantage as the two of them stumbled backwards across the sand. Poe kicked the blaster out of the man's hand, and it bounced away, landing a little ways from the two of them.
They struggled for a few moments, and then in the blink of an eye the man was no longer there. Poe took a few steps back, struggling out of the handcuffs watching the man who was watching him. Crouched in the sand with a tilted head.
"Who are you?" Poe shouted holding his fists up in a ready position. He needed to get to that speeder, he needed to get out of here. His eyes darted to the blaster and the man's gaze followed his.
Poe made the first move, darting across the sand and scrambling in order to get to the gun first. The man didn't even bother to go after the gun, resorting to tackling him instead. The two of them rolled down one of the dunes, landing with the rag covered man straddling Poe. He threw a punch that Poe barely managed to move his head in time, but caught the next one on his jaw.
Poe retaliated, attempting to grab onto any hold he could, but the man darted out of the way, allowing Poe the freedom to stand up again.
Both scrambled to their feet, sinking slightly in the sand. The man seemed to be slipping with almost every step he took, and Poe gritted his teeth. Especially since he wasn't doing any better. He could tell that this man was trained in martial arts, much more than he was at least. He did not stand a chance and there was nowhere to run too.
He could hear the blood rushing through his ears and could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He began to smile. Even if his chances were slim, he lived for moments like this. He lived for the adrenaline. He only felt alive when he was almost near death.
The man lunged at Poe again and the two of them tussled, sinking into the sand with almost every step that they took. Poe was bigger and stronger, but the other man was faster, and was certainly landing much more blows that Poe was.
The two quickly fell back into the position they had been in before, prepared and watching each other.
This time Poe moved first, tackling the man only hesitating when something seemed off. A struggle ensued, Poe pushing down on the man who was thrashing underneath him desperate to get out of Poe's grip. Poe barely managed to hold on, but was able to rip the cloth off of the figure's face.
"You're a woman?" Poe gasped, his hesitation giving the quite beautiful woman underneath him a chance to punch him straight in the head. Dazed the Pilot crumpled to his side, and the woman quickly took advantage of his confusion to push him onto his back and re handcuff him.
When Poe completely came back too, the woman was dragging him back up the sand dune they had fallen down and muttering under her breath the whole time she did. She seemed to be only slightly struggling with his body weight, and while Poe couldn't quite make out what she was saying, but it sounded like a long string of swear words.
"Who are you?" Poe demanded again, as he struggled as hard as he could against his bonds, the woman only responded by kicking sand back into his face. Coughing loudly and struggling to breathe again, Poe was all but helpless when the woman reached the top of the sand dune and managed to get him back to the speeder.
She kicked him in the gut, and walked away. When Poe scrambled back to his feet, he was met with the wrong end of her blaster and a very angry woman standing behind it. He slowly raised his tightly handcuffed hands into the air, and the woman took them and clipped them onto the back of her speeder.
When she turned to finish strapping in her bag, Poe shouted "Who are you?" growing more and more frustrated with her silence. "Answer me, goddammit, who are you and what do you want?"
She sighed and then looked back at him with a glare replying in a heavy accent. "My name is Seraphine. You are Poe Dameron and you are coming with me."
Shit.
Author's Note: So that's chapter two. Yah, I never really know what to say in these things, but there are author points below. Thank you for the support. In terms of the next chapter, this weekend is HALLOWWWEEEEN so I am gonna be at a ton of parties and I also have three midterms next week. So if you want another chapter soon reviews are a great way to get me to procrastinate studying.
Author's Points: 1) Yolo Ziff is a real character from the Star Wars Universe, so I have no copyright of him. He is a member of the Blue Squadron who flies under Poe and created the propaganda poster as a joke but it actually took off. If you remember in Force Awakens there is a character who says "Black Leader, there's a brand new hole in that oscillator. Looks like our friends got in." That is him. :)
2) Basic refers to Galactic Basic which is the primary language of the Star Wars Universe. It is basically English.
3) The name "Seraphine" means "Fiery Angel" hence the name of the story that honestly I might change. It is currently "For an Angel's Broken Heart." Do you guys have any suggestions?
Sneak Peak into Chapter Three
The speeder was cruising nicely across the sand, and the two of them sat in what she wished had been silence. Poe had been repeatedly asking question after question ranging from why she was doing this to what she thought of the weather, but Seraphine remained silent the whole time reeling in her own thoughts, getting angrier and angrier with herself.
This job was supposed to be a simple one, get him, drop him off, and get the money. But now he had seen her face, he knew her name, and that always over complicated things. She liked being the unknown silent lurker in the background. Last time she had stuck her neck out it turned into a major pain in the ass. Yet here she was, sticking her neck out again.
She knew better.
She knew she should be avoiding the First Order.
Should be avoiding the Resistance.
Avoiding their whole messy war.
She was such a fucking idiot.
But she owed someone more favors than anyone could ever repay in a full life time, and this was just one of them. Really she had no choice. So here she was in the middle of this mess.
What are the chances that they knew that he survived the crash? The tie-fighter had been swallowed whole by the badlands, they would assume he had died right?
Probably little fucking chance, everyone would be on red alert.
Fucking great.
She was such a fucking idiot.