"See, I told you you'd get the hang of it," Poe's encouraging voice broke through the wall of happy thoughts Kyra had built in her mind, his chipper tone an indicator that he had no idea how uncomfortable she really was. Breathing deeply through her nose, Kyra nodded, climbing out of the X-Wing. She bypassed the last few rungs of the ladder, following him, hopping down, thankful for the sturdiness of the pavement beneath her feet.
"That wasn't so bad," she lied, giving him a smirk as he raised his hand to meet his.
"I'm going to go grab the others," As soon as Poe turned his back she squatted over, her hands on her knees as she felt the blood flood to her face. A reassuring chirp beside her startled her.
"You're not allowed to tell him," she narrowed her eyes at BB-8. Her Binary was already improving just in the few weeks she'd spent training with Black Squadron, so it was becoming easier and easier to make out the remarks the little droid made from time to time. "I'm still getting used to it."
After the lightheadedness passed, Kyra straightened up, just in time to see the rest of Black Squadron approaching. Their flight practice for the day was over, so usually they'd debrief with Poe before adjourning. Kyra had to work an afternoon shift at the hospital, which she was somewhat dreading. Even though she was technically only sitting in the cockpit of Poe's plane while he did all the work, she was always exhausted afterwards. She supposed she had enough time between now and her shift for a coffee, since she had to return to her quarters and change anyhow.
As usual, Poe wrapped up the training pretty quickly and reminded them when to meet the next day. Training with Black Squadron had become less and less of an anxiety the more practice she got, and she had to admit she was relieved. Flying was still something that chewed at her nerves, but she'd made a lot of progress since the first time. As long as she remembered to breath, she could usually fight the nausea.
Weapons training was it's own monster, but in a different way. That she did separately from Black Squadron, which she preferred. There was something about Poe Dameron that made her feel like a silly, incapable fool. He was so confident, so talented, and it made Kyra feel awfully inferior. Kyra certainly had her own strengths, but in this department, she had a lot to learn. During weapons training, there was just an instinct, a knack. It was simple physics, and she was able to trust herself.
As she started to leave the hangar to head back to her quarters and change, she heard someone call her name. Turning around, she saw Jessica Pava coming towards her in a half-jog. Her long dark hair bounced behind her, falling loose from it's tight bun.
"Kyra," she spoke her name again, coming to a halt in front of the doctor.
"What's going on?" Kyra asked, leaning forward slightly."I don't know what you're doing tonight, but the rest of us are going into town and meeting at Golu's for drinks since we don't come in until later tomorrow," She began. "You should come with us."
Kyra mulled over the idea in her mind, not quite sure how to respond the the invite. Golu's was one of the few bars in the small town that was about at twenty minute walk from the Resistance Base, made up of one street with a handful of businesses, mostly owned by retired Alliance soldiers or Resistance members who didn't live on the base. It was a bar frequented often after long days or small victories, but Kyra had only been there a few times at Philomela's prodding. The times she had gone it was loud and packed, and Kyra had never cared much for crowds.
"I have to work an afternoon shift in the hospital today," she said, pouting her lower lip slightly.
"We aren't leaving until later," Jessika continued. "You really should come, we'd all like to get to know you better."
Kyra wasn't sure why she felt like she didn't belong, especially when she was being explicitly invited. Carefully, she offered Jessika a soft smile. "I'll see."
"Please do," Jessika tapped her shoulder. "It'll be fun."
Kyra nodded, slowly backing away, before completely turning to head back to her quarters, mulling over the idea. Maybe she'd see Philomela and ask her what she thought, although she knew Philomela would only encourage her to go. After freshening up in the small bathroom in her flat, she took a few minutes to sip a coffee and change before leaving to head to her shift in the medical bay which was only a five minute walk from where she lived.
Philomela was the first to greet her in the lounge, frustratedly stripping out of her uniform, along with a few other nurses. Shift changes were usually hectic in the lounge, so Kyra was surprised when the doctor she was there to relieve was sound asleep in one of the cots, despite the noise. She gently shook him awake, letting him know he could leave, before focusing on Philomela, who was mumbling under her breath.
"One of the new medics didn't properly dispose of a biohazard," she huffed, her voice tense. "Now I have to wash this before I can go back to work."
"Good afternoon to you," Krya chuckled, using the mirror to braid her hair.
"I'm sorry," Philomela sighed, shrugging in her undershirt. "This is just a minor inconvenience, considering the fact that today is busier than usual, and I'm wanted in a thousand different places."
"There are extra uniforms in that utility closet," Kyra gestured with a tilt of her head. "Just wash it and return it."
Philomela's eyes flooded with relief. "Thank you," she said, scurrying towards the closet, her soiled uniform still caught around her ankles. Kyra chuckled to herself as she watched the spectacle.
"How are you?" Philomela asked, looking for uniforms. "Still getting airsick?"
"It's getting better," Kyra murmured, and it wasn't too far from the truth. "Still a bit unsettling."
"Huh," Philomela responded. "How's Commander Dameron?"
Kyra smirked, realizing how strange it sounded to hear his official title, since they were on a first name basis. But she supposed that was who he was to others. "Friendly," Kyra said, naming off the first adjective that came to mind.
"You know, he isn't bad looking. What do you think?" Philomela prodded.
Kyra couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance and frustration at her friend's remark, but she tried her best not to let it manifest, knowing that it was her own issue, and no one else's. The mere mention or insinuation of romance always made Kyra's gut twist with nausea, similar to how she felt flying in an x-wing. Poe, of course, was well-known within The Resistance, and was certainly the interest of many of it's members, he was charming and handsome, something Kyra had witnessed firsthand. There had always been rumors of his various affairs but Kyra paid them very little attention, uninterested in gossip and other people's personal lives.
"I don't think anything," Kyra answered, securing her hair in a tie, hoping it would stay in place.
Philomela didn't answer, and she wasn't sure if it was because she was doubting Kyra's answer or focused on changing into the clean uniform. Either way, Kyra took the lull in conversation as an opportunity to change the subject. "One of the women in Black Squadron wants me to meet them out for drinks tonight at Golu's."
"Are you going?" Asked Philomela. "Who asked you?"
Shrugging, Kyra expressed her apprehension. "Jessika Pava...and I'm not sure...probably not."
"Go," Philomela's voice was firm, this was a command.
"I don't know, I just-"
"Kyra," Philomela began, her voice stern, and Kyra felt like she was receiving a lecture from her father, back when she'd been a rambunctious and troublemaking child. "If the next time a medic in training exposes me to an infectious disease and I die tragically on the job, who will you have to talk to?"
Although the drama in her voice was evident, and humorous, Kyra gasped, feigning surprise. "Don't talk like that, Philomela."
"I'm serious, you need to go. You can't stay in and read books your whole life," Even though she and Kyra had a lot in common, Philomela was definitely the more outgoing one of the pair, and had a considerably more active social and love life.
"Really? Because that's what I was planning on doing," Kyra quipped back sarcastically, even though it wasn't far from the truth.
"Oh," Philomela rolled her eyes. "Get to work, I know you're going to be late for you shift if you keep this up."
Laughing, Kyra said goodbye to her friend before getting to work.
Later that evening, Kyra found herself walking into town with Temmin and Jessika. They'd invited her to walk with them, which she was thankful for. Although she was used to walking alone, she definitely was glad she wouldn't be arriving at Golu's alone.
When they arrived, the small, dimly-lit tavern was just the right amount of crowded, but no so much so that they were being pushed and shoved around. A few other Black Squadron pilots had already found a booth and waved them over excitedly. Kyra started off with just a water. She wasn't interested in getting wasted, but she knew that they sometimes served food, and something other than cafeteria meals sounded enticing.
Most members of The Resistance were paid very minimally, considering that housing, meals, and healthcare were included if they lived on the base, so Kyra only had a small sum of money that she had taken with her when she joined. She thought it might be fair to treat herself.
For the few twenty minutes Kyra made small talk and answered questions about herself, her position in the medical bay and what brought her to The Resistance. She listened to everyone else's stories and found herself relaxing, becoming more comfortable around the people she had only previously known briefly and specifically on a professional basis. It was nice to do something besides working, it turned out Philomela was right.
Just as Temmin was in the middle of telling a story to her, the others all erupted into a chorus of excitement, and Poe Dameron squeezed into the booth next to Kyra, clad in a brown leather jackets and dark grey trousers. "Sorry I'm late," he murmured, his shoulder pressed up against her. "I had a meeting that went over."
Conversation continued back to normal as Temmin finished his story, and everyone broke off into their own little cliques to chat. Poe pointed at Kyra's empty glass. "What are you drinking?"
"Just water," she answered, and Poe frowned.
"Really?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I have to work tomorrow morning," Kyra defended, even though she could tell he was teasing.
"Will you come to the bar with me to get a drink?"
Kyra nodded, and followed him out of the cramped booth.
"I'm glad you came out with us," Poe said as she fell into step beside him. "I hope everyone has been friendly."
"Of course," Kyra answered, tucking a stray hair from her braid behind her ear. The bar was a bit crowded, so she anticipated a wait to get their drinks. Poe didn't seem to mind, and rested his arm against a nearby empty table, turning to her. Seeing him in anything other than his flight suit was a little strange. He looked so...casual.
"I didn't know you were coming," Kyra mentioned, observing the crowd around them, feeling the warmth radiating off of the laid-back crowd.
"I had a meeting with General Organa," Poe responded. "She's entrusted me with a project very close to her."
"I anticipate we'll find out more about it soon?" Kyra asked, and watched Poe's lips curve into a welcoming smile.
"You would be correct," he answered, and let the smile linger. "Are you feeling more comfortable during training?" He asked.
Kyra nodded. "It gets better every day," she agreed.
"My mother taught me to fly when I was three," Poe began. "It takes some time to get used to, but I'm glad you're catching on."
"Do you keep in touch with your mother?" Kyra inquired, smiling at the image of a young Poe Dameron, probably with the same dark curly hair and big brown eyes.
Poe shook his head. "She died when I was eight. She and my father both fought in the Alliance."
Kyra felt a wave of heat rush to her face, and although he did a good job at hiding it, still caught the brief flash of pain in his eyes, and felt his sadness as her own. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said gently. "I lost my mother, too."
Poe's features softened. "It's alright. My father lives on Yavin 4, my home planet. I still visit him sometimes, and my grandmother is still alive as well."
Kyra nodded. "That's nice to hear."
"And your family?" He asked, tilting his head.
Kyra felt her heart race, growing nervous. She didn't know how to answer the question without sounding suspicious or like a spoiled child. But the whole story wasn't one she was comfortable telling, she was barely comfortable keeping it to herself. So she settled on a nonchalant response. "I haven't spoken with him in awhile," she began. "We didn't have the best relationship."
Thankfully, Poe took the hint, and didn't ask anymore questions. The bar was becoming less crowded and it was their turn to order.
"If I buy you a whiskey, will you drink it?" He chuckled. "You can't just have water."
"If you're buying it, I suppose I can't say no, right?" Kyra said dryly. "I've never been one to turn down a free drink."
"That's the spirit," He winked at her before stepping up to the bar.
Shortly after, they returned to the booth and Poe squeezed back in beside her.
"Could you pull up a chair, Dameron? I can barely move!" Temmin shouted over Kyra's head at the other pilot. The rest of the table laughed, and Poe sighed with a defeated look in his eyes before obeying.
The night ended without any mishaps, and not extraordinarily late, which she was thankful for, since Kyra had work, weapons training, and training with Black Squadron the next day. She got home safely and made herself a cup of tea, curling up underneath the covers with a book, but found herself drifting off before she could even start reading.
Hello all & Happy Holidays. I apologize I haven't been updating as frequently as expected over this break, however, my laptop crashed so I am typing this on an iPad with a Bluetooth Keyboard my father let me borrow. Also, the holidays were busier than I expected.
My heart is extremely broken upon hearing the news of Carrie Fisher, and Debbie Reynolds passing. Such talented women. One of the reason's I love Star Wars so much is because I grew up watching it, and I always loved the tenacity, strength, and stubbornness of our beloved Princess Leia. I felt as though she was my first role model, she taught my that as a woman, I was capable of anything. Carrie Fisher herself used her platform to speak up about sexism and mental health, and although I am upset, I know her legacy will live on. Hopefully you all are doing okay upon hearing this news.
And to my lovely reviewers, CLTex - Yes, I think it would be quite the experience to fly in an x-wing with Poe Dameron! Guest - Thank you for the review! My whole inspiration for the "X-Wings being different than normal planes" comes from some of my friends experiences who were in the Air Force! I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. And Princess Starberry - I loved hearing from you. Your theory about Poe having a wife and kids is very plausible! I've never thought of that before, but I feel like he'd make a wonderful father and husband.
Anyways, thank you for all your feedback, please let me know how I am doing!