Oria's broom swooped through the air with a wish, aimed directly at her unknown target.

"Woah, woah, woah!" a masculine voice cried as a hand shot up and caught the broom handle, stopping it mid-swing. At the contact, Oria gasped and dropped the broom handle, stepping back.

The man before her was definitely unfamiliar to her, meaning he wasn't a slave. His clothes were unusual - an orange jumpsuit with white straps - and his accent was one she'd never heard before.

The two stared at each other for a moment before the door opened. Acting quickly, the man grabbed her wrist and pulled her down behind the crate, holding her close to him as a hand came up to cover her mouth.

"Everything okay in here?" a woman's voice asked and Oria tried to shout, her voice muffled by the man's hands.

"Tell her everything's okay," the man whispered in her ear and something jabbed her ribcage. She knew it was a blaster; the slave herders carried them in holsters as they patrolled the homestead. "Alright?"

She nodded quickly, her stomach practically in her throat with fear. She'd never had a blaster pointed at her before. Was the man going to shoot her? She wasn't sure, but she wasn't going to take any chances.

"Everything's okay!" she cried when he'd pulled his hand away. "Just found a rat!"

"Well kill it before it gets into the crates," the woman muttered before the door closed behind her.

Alone again, Oria and the stranger sat in silence for a moment before she began to struggle against him. Gun or not, she refused to be held so threateningly without a fight.

However, the man didn't resist and so Oria fell forward into the dirt before scrambling to her feet.

"Who are you?" she asked, looking around and grabbing the broom again for protection.

The man stood up and Oria realized he was a few inches taller than herself, with tanned skin, black flowing locks and piercing eyes.

Eyes she found herself getting lost in.

Shaking that thought from her head, she turned her focus back on him as a whole, waiting for his answer.

"My name is Poe. Poe Dameron. You?" he said, taking a step in her direction. She pointed the broom at him and he stopped. Despite the calm, friendly tone his voice now had, a stark contrast to his sharp whispers before, she didn't trust him.

"What are you doing in our refrigerator Poe?" she asked, refusing to answer his question. She wasn't one to tell strangers personal information.

Poe eyed her up and down for a second before sighing and taking a step away from her.

"I'm hiding from the New Order," he told her and she frowned. "You don't know who that is," he said softly, more to himself as if he was remembering something. "Well I'm a pilot with the Resistance and I was chased by a group of New Order stormtroopers. I got away and decided to hide out on Lothal until the coast is clear."

"You decided to hide out in our refrigerator," Oria repeated, her eyebrow raising in his direction. He recognized her tone and shrugged.

"It was the only place I could find that was dark, out of the way, and low key," he explained. "I didn't realize someone would be down here so late at night."

"People are down here all hours of the day," she told him, abandoning the broom and walking back over to the crate she'd set on the sorting table.

He didn't seem to be a threat to her, and she'd be in major trouble if she was caught not doing any work.

She heard him walk up behind her but she kept her eyes on her hands, sorting the small fruits into bags to be shipped into town and trying to ignore the rubbing on her palms.

"You didn't tell me your name," Poe finally said, his voice quieter as he realized she was just about as dangerous to him as he was to her.

"You shouldn't stay here," she told him, avoiding the question again. "I'll finish this shipment tonight, but someone else will be in here tomorrow morning and I can't guarantee they'll be as understanding as I am."

"I can't return to my ship until I know it's safe," Poe said and Oria tried to hide her excitement and continue to seem uninterested.

Inside she was squirming. A ship? As in one of the ships she'd seen fly overhead with cargo for the town port? This man was a pilot! The thought of that was new to her; she'd never met someone who wasn't a slave or in the farming trade. He seemed so exotic to her, she wanted to pound him with questions.

But questions were dangerous. It was better if she knew as little about him as possible. They were both safer that way.

"Is there somewhere else where I'll be safe and out of sight?" he asked and she tried to think as she worked.

"I'm only familiar with the homestead," she admitted. "But if you go out past the sancor fields, there should be tree coverage you can hide out in."

The man blew out a large breath of air in relief, and then winced and doubled over. Scowling, Oria looked down and noticed the blood at his side. How had she not noticed it before?

"What happened?" she asked and he looked down before clenching his teeth.

"I think one of the locals thought I was a wild animal. He had good blaster aim," he said with a forced smile and she frowned at how casual he tried to make it.

"Do things like this happen to you a lot then?" she asked as she walked over and got down on her knees, prodding the wound through his jumpsuit.

"Occasionally," he said with a nod and a chuckle at his own joke. "It's not unusual to find myself being shot at." He hissed in pain as her fingers touched tender skin and she pulled away quickly.

"You must live an interesting life," Oria said before standing up. Their faces were close, his nose practically touching her forehead, and she froze before taking a step back. "I think I have a medical kit out in the hallway. Nothing major, but hopefully it'll get things cleaned up a bit."

She was almost to the door when she heard him quietly say "Thank you."

She paused and smiled to herself before opening the door and heading out to the main room of the refrigerator.

Luckily for her, everyone was spread out in different sorting rooms, so it was easy to grab the first aid kit from the shelf and head back to the gorgon room without being noticed.

Walking over to where he was, she skidded to a stop when she saw he'd unzipped his orange jumpsuit and pulled it down to his waist revealing a sweaty grey undershirt that did nothing to hide his muscles.

"I uh… um…" she stuttered, suddenly feeling the temperature rise.

It was hard to deny the attractiveness of the man in front of her. Adding the fact that he was unfamiliar to her added another level of thrill to his presence.

She needed to get this done quickly, for both their sakes.

Avoiding his gaze and dropping back down to her knees, she pushed his shirt up so the wound was visible. The wound was more like a burn; a vicious, dark red circle on his side, blood slowly dripping out and surrounding the hole to make it look ghastly.

Although the herders had blasters, Oria was unfamiliar with how to treat a wound caused by them. Was there a bullet? Was there something inside him that needed to be removed?

She had a brief thought that maybe the blast had gone all the way through him, but a glance around to his back told her that hadn't happened.

Deciding her lacking knowledge would have to do, she figured her best bet was to treat it as a normal cut for now, and hope he got better care soon.

Shuffling through the first aid kit, she finally found the disinfecting spray, cloth bandages and medical adhesive.

"I have to warn you, this may sting," she said as she opened the disinfecting spray and applied it to the wound.

He hissed and she felt his muscles tighten.

"Sorry," she said but he shook his head wordlessly, indicating she had nothing to apologize for.

Using the silence to her advantage, she pulled out a cloth bandage and taped it to his side, letting go of his shirt and standing up.

"You may not want to stick around here long," she told him, pointing at the covered injury. "I don't know proper care for a blaster wound, so I may have done something wrong."

"I'm sure it's fine," he said with a reassuring smile, all evidence of pain gone. Then he looked down at her hands. "You have your own injuries to tend to," he pointed out.

"Oh, they're fine," she replied, subconsciously hiding her hands in her sleeves. "Just a little rough from working in the fields today."

As they talked, he carefully slid his jumpsuit back up over his arms and started zipping it up.

"You work in the fields during the day and in here at night?" he asked before scoffing. "That doesn't sound very exciting."

"I don't think exciting is ever used to describe how a slave lives," she told him with a teasing smile.

His head shot up and their eyes locked. From his surprised reaction, it was obvious he hadn't known she was a slave. Perhaps he'd never even met a slave before. Oria suddenly felt self-conscious. Maybe he had slaves of his own, and wouldn't want to associate with her now that he knew.

Trying to cover the awkwardness, she turned and walked back over to the crate. She'd only filled four bags, and each crate could fill at least twelve. She'd have to work double time to pick up the slack.

"So do I finally get to know your name?" he asked and she looked at him with a smile and a blush.

He was looking at her intensely, like no man had ever looked at her before. Everyone in the homestead had known her since she was a child. Poe looked at her like she was filled with mystery. It was new to her.

"Oria," she told him and he smiled, repeating the name. "Oria Morvoni."

She reached for a pile of gorgon stalks, hissing in a breath when her raw hands hit the prickly parts

A hand closed over hers and she looked up to see Poe looking at her sympathetically.

"Let me help," he told her, and when she snubbed her nose and opened her mouth to argue, he cut her off with a chuckle. "Don't be so stubborn. It's the least I could do to repay you for not squishing me with your broom."

She blushed at his teasing and conceded with a nod, stepping out of the way so he could have access to the crate.

He looked down at the strange fruits, pondering them in silence before sighing.

"What exactly am I supposed to do?" he finally asked and now it was her turn to chuckle.

"Alright, each of these crates holds twenty-five pounds of gorgon fruit. They need to be sorted through and the bad ones tossed. The good ones will be divided into two pound bags over there for shipping into town."

"How do you know if they're bad?" he asked, frowning as he looked between two different fruits in his hands.

The situation was foolish, and despite all that had gone on that day, Oria couldn't wipe the smile off her face. Leaning over the table, she pulled two fruits from the crate and held them up to him.

"This one is good. It's got a nice purple color and the stalk is a very lush green-"

"What does 'lush green' mean?" Poe cut her off and in response she shook the healthy fruit in his face. "Okay, okay. So what's a bad fruit?"

"This one." She held up the fruit in her other hand and he winced at the smell. "See how it's all bruised? That's bad. And the stalk is starting to turn white. White stalks are bad."

She tossed it over her shoulder, where it landed perfectly in the waste bin.

"Hey! Nice aim!" Poe exclaimed and she blushed, but otherwise ignored the compliment.

The two lapsed into silence, both shuffling through the crate. With Poe's help, Oria could go at a slower pace, holding the fruits gently and keeping her hands from hurting more than they already did. Occasionally he would ask Oria's opinion on a fruit, but for the most part they focused on their work.

"How many of these do you have to do?" Poe asked when they'd started working on their fourteenth crate.

"I'm not entirely sure, which is why we need to be careful," she said, glancing up at the door as she spoke. "We don't usually work at this hour, so I'm not sure when they'll come to tell me I'm done. Typically, it's a 12-hour day, with a pace of six crates an hour."

"Well at least we're making good time," Poe joked as he tossed a bad fruit over Oria's head, watching as it landed just shy of the bin. "So is… I mean, as a... "he stumbled over his words and Oria stopped to look up at him.

"A slave? You can say it," she told him gently, realizing he felt uncomfortable using the term.

"As a slave, is this what you do every day?" he asked before his eyes went wide. "I don't mean that as an insult," he added quickly. "I just mean… I mean I guess I'm not very familiar with this stuff."

"They don't have slaves where you come from?" Oria asked, genuinely surprised. She'd assumed every planet had slaves. Who did the work?

"No, slavery's been outlawed in the Republic. Has been for years; since before I was born."

Oria mulled this over, frowning in contemplation.

No slavery? Such places existed outside of Lothal?

The thought of living in a place like that, being free and never having to work for a master again, made Oria's heart soar. To never feel the slave herder's lashes against your skin. To never be reprimanded by Master Trevyon. What would it be like to not fear the possibility of being sold? Of being torn from the only ones you've ever considered family?

"What's it like?" she asked, feeling her excitement bubble over into her voice. "The Republic. These planets without slavery. What are they like?"

Poe laughed at her enthusiasm, finishing up a crate and walking over to bring down a fresh one.

"I haven't really thought about it in comparison to a planet with slavery before," he informed her. "But I guess it's nice."

"Nice?" she asked, frowning. That's all he had to say? "Who does the work? What are the people like? Is everyone equal?"

"Everyone is absolutely not equal," he told her with a roll of his eyes. She was hurt before she picked up that he was rolling his eyes at the unequal people, not her. "We have droids that do a lot of labor, but people also have different jobs and tasks they do day-to-day."

He paused to carry a pile of bad gorgon fruits over to the bin, picking up random ones he'd chucked on the floor as he went.

When he returned, he got a few fruits organized before speaking again.

"Each planet is so different, it's hard to categorize them in a here versus there way," he told her. "But each planet is as incredible as the next." He paused. "Except Tattooine. That place is so hot and filled with shady characters, it's not worth your time."

He grinned at her expectantly, but she was too riled up with everything else to pick up on his teasing comment.

"Someday, I'd like to see another planet," Oria told him. Then she gasped when a metallic thud echoed from outside the door. "They're coming, quick. Hide!"

Before he could comprehend what was happening, she'd shoved both her hands against his chest, pushing him backwards off his feet. He toppled to the ground with a grunt, his hands clutching his blaster wound, and she winced at the way his rough jumpsuit had scraped against her skin.

Hoping he scrambled out of way in time, Oria took his place in front of the crate, trying to act casual.

"Oria!" a woman's voice called. Relaxing visibly, Oria took in a deep breath.

They were safe.

"Yes Rasha?" she asked, dropping the fruit from her hands as the older woman approached.

"They've called us for the night. Now come on, no one here deserves a meal more than you do. Poor girl, working in the fields and the refrigerator on the same day."

The smaller, older woman continued to mumble about Oria's woes as the two women turned and headed out the door and to the main room.

Hoping Rasha didn't notice, Oria turned and stole one last look in Poe's direction. He stayed hidden, for which she was pleased. However, part of her had wished for a better goodbye than the one they'd gotten.

What a strange turn of events. Never in her wildest dreams could Oria have imagined she'd meet a stranger - a non-slave - and that he'd be a pilot! Her mind soared and she felt giddy all over.

A real actual pilot. She'd gotten to spend a few hours with an actual pilot.

And a handsome one at that.

Despite trying to push those thoughts aside, her mind wouldn't be swayed. Poe Dameron was handsome, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't sad their time together had been cut short.

Still, he needed help for his wound, and if she was caught with him, she'd be severely punished.

This was better for both of them.


Well? Thanks so much everyone for the reviews on the last chapter! I'm glad you all seem to be enjoying it so far! Comment below and let me know what think now that they've met!