The fight started to ease out of the girl's stance at Poe's explanation of his Resistance position, and she lowered her staff. "The Resistance?" Her voice was less aggressive and more hopeful, "of course…" She bent down to pick up her dropped blaster and Poe tensed, but she simply brushed off the sandy weapon and tucked it at the small of her back almost absently, moving towards where her pack sat on the dune.
"You're working against the First Order, the ones who attacked? My father talked about the Resistance. And the Rebels before them." A troubled look passed over her face before she looked up, meeting his eyes. Poe nodded.
She shifted uncomfortably and looked away again. "But as far as your companion is concerned… I haven't seen anyone else. I'm sorry." Damn. His heart plummeted. Finn probably didn't make it. The girl toed at the sand with one foot. "My job is to keep order and lend aid. When I saw you collapse, I sort of stopped looking, and didn't investigate the crash until later." She brought her veiled face up to meet his eyes again. "You looked…I thought you were dead. I tried giving you water, but I didn't know if you'd wake up, or who you were, or how you were connected with the stormtroopers. But you kept a trooper from shooting me back in Tuanul, so I felt like I owed you. Thank you."
Poe swallowed uncomfortably. Maybe he had shot some stormtroopers… and he did remember taking one out right before it finished her off. He'd noticed her eyes as she fell. But he'd been more worried about covering BB-8's escape than saving villagers, he acknowledged guiltily. It was all about the end game, his mission, and he'd quite frankly been less concerned with protecting and helping those innocent people.
Poe thought briefly about his escape from the First Order's star destroyer, about Finn's admission that he was aiding him because he needed a pilot to facilitate his own escape. People, especially the sort of people with whom he associated, seldom chose to do something just because it was the right thing to do. But the Resistance is right, he firmly mentally reasoned.
Yet this girl had chosen to help him—a ratty, bloody stranger who didn't really give a shit about her planet or its people. And he had repaid her with a hard knock to the ground and a new set of bruises. He ran a hand through his wavy hair. "Hey…uh, no need to thank me—I was just doing my job. Or trying to. Thank you, kid. I'm sorry about the, ah… misunderstanding." He thought she might be raising one wry eyebrow at him beneath her scarf. "What's your name?"
She drew herself up a bit, straightening her unhurt left arm at her side. "Taliya Zev. Niima Outpost Militia member, serving under Constable Zuvio." Her posture sagged slightly. "You can call me Tali. …And for the last time, I'm not a kid," she finished tiredly. Poe's lips twitched. "Alright, Officer…Tali." He watched her gather her pack, drawing closer. "Forgive me, but how old are you?"
Tali's eyes narrowed. "I'm 24, not that it's any of your business, Commander."
Poe was mildly surprised. That was young, but not as young as her face had appeared to him. Maybe he had been around hardened Resistance fighters too long. "No offense meant, Officer Tali. I'm real glad you didn't choose to leave me to the scavengers." His lips curved in a slight smile, and he stuck out his hand. "Please, call me Poe. Pleasure to meet you on this fine desert evening."
Tali looked askance at his light tone for a long moment, then gingerly held out her uninjured left hand towards his right one with a sarcastically murmured "…pleasure." He realized the awkward mismatch and brought both of his hands up, clasping hers between them, fingers reaching to her thin wrist. Her hand was cool and rough with callouses and sand, and he bent his head to hold her shadowed eyes with his own. Pretty. He couldn't tell their color in the moonlight.
She shifted her eyes away from his and Poe allowed her to slip her hand out of his grip, finding himself mildly disappointed at the loss of contact. He snapped his attention back to the mission. The map. BB-8. He had very limited knowledge of this backwater junkyard planet and seriously doubted his chances of finding BB-8 while wandering aimlessly around the desert. Not to mention the fact that he was unarmed, with no supplies. He was smart enough to know when a mission was fucked up beyond his abilities to handle it solo, and this was certainly one of those times. The Resistance would be able to help him locate BB-8. He had to get back and contact General Organa, give her the bad news. Fuck. This mission had certainly not provided the most shining evidence of his competency.
Poe glanced wryly at the surrounding dunes, then his eyes focused back on Tali's hooded form. "If you wouldn't mind helping my sorry ass out yet again, I'd really appreciate some water if you can spare it, and a point in the direction of the nearest town. I need to borrow a ship and get back to the Resistance, fast…like, yesterday."
Tali shifted her pack on her good shoulder and eyed him. "You're going to fight the First Order?" Poe nodded, and Tali continued, "There's a town and a guy with a ship I know a couple days' hike from here." She motioned over her shoulder. Her voice grew shaky with anger. "But I'm coming with you. I want to see those animals destroyed. The Order has to pay for their assault on Tuanul, for all those villagers, for…" Her voice trailed off.
Poe sighed, running a hand over his face. "No can do, kid—" Tali bristled at the return of the dismissive moniker, and Poe held up his hands, giving her an apologetic look. "Hey, sorry. Even if you were a fully trained warrior, the Resistance base is secret. I can't just go inviting people in. 'Sides, don't you have to hold down order in this junkyard, Officer?" He emphasized her title pointedly, brushing past her to start off in the direction she had pointed. A couple days, huh? It might be a bit touch and go, but he could probably make the trip without supplies. And if there was a town, there would doubtless be someone he could talk out of a ship. He could be quite persuasive. This soft—pretty—girl didn't belong in the sort of fight he was about to enter. She probably had a family here. A boyfriend? He swiftly shook his thoughts out of that direction. She helped me out of a tight spot and pointed me in the right direction—that's it, that's all I need to know about her.
"Wait!" Tali hurried after him, reaching for his arm. "Please… they killed my father." Poe halted, shoulders tensing. He knew well what it felt like to lose a parent. Both of them, in his case. What it was to be alone. "I was right there and I couldn't stop it…" her voice, initially fierce, grew more forced and painful. "…I wasn't good enough to stop them." His eyes closed at the raw pain in her voice. "I want to come with you and fight those bastards. I'll gladly join the Resistance, to help destroy the First Order. I need to… my father. He was…all I have." Her voice grew softer. "Please. …There's nothing left."
Poe sighed, turning towards her and closing his hand over hers where it gripped his tan forearm in order to pull it off of him, but hesitated when he saw the stark desperation in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he intoned quietly. The Militia man with Lor San Tekka… was that her father, not just a fellow officer? He hadn't realized. He gently removed her hand, holding onto it maybe a second or two longer than strictly necessary. He wasn't the sentimental type or anything, but… War fucking sucks.
"And you need supplies, I have supplies!" Tali continued, sounding slightly panicked, apparently taking his soft reply as a refusal. "And you need a guide. There's sinking sand in this area, but I know the desert, I can lead us around it. And get us a ship—cash in a favor." She paused, meeting his eyes, and Poe looked at her critically, lips thinned. Small, young, with the added bonus of a fucked up arm… but she seems scrappy. The spot on his head from her armored hit still throbbed. Dirty fighter. He approved of that. And on a second consideration, he wasn't actually sure if he could make the trek into town without water. Poe sighed.
"Alright, well, what can ya do? Are you trained? I know you've got that pointy Militia staff but how well can you use it? Didn't quite work out with me—" Tali indignantly cut him off, "I wasn't expecting the blood-covered comatose pilot whom I thought was on my side and helped, to attack!" She eyed him testily. "…And my dominant arm's slightly out of commission," she admitted, gesturing with her left hand towards her right side. "But yes, thank you, normally I can handle a staff just fine." Poe held up his hands in supplication, fighting a grin. "And I've just been through Militia training—my aim with a blaster is excellent," she huffed, adding "…and I'm decent at fixing tech," almost as an afterthought. She rustled the bag on her back and it produced a metallic clanging. "…These are parts."
Poe clapped her (good) shoulder with a sly smile. "Alright, alright, sorry for assuming you were just a pretty face, kid." She rolled her eyes in annoyance but he thought a slight blush might have risen to her face his words. Poe's smirk continued. "If you insist on joining me, this is going to be a partnership." He cocked his head up in a mock salute. "As Black Leader—" he winced inwardly, thinking of his poor, ruined specialized fighter, "I welcome you to the team." Poe gestured towards her pack. "And considering you don't have the use of both arms, I'll carry the supplies."
Tali eyed him a bit warily. "What? I'm not going to steal it and run. As you so quickly pointed out…" he slipped the strap off her shoulder and hefted it onto his own (Goddamn, she's stronger than she looks, what does this shit weigh?!), "…I'd probably run myself right into a pit of sinking sand without you." He met her eyes. "Besides, despite our unfortunate introduction, I'm not only an ace pilot, but an upstanding gentleman and officer of the noble Resistance." Okay, maybe that was laying it on a bit thick. The scoffing expression in her eyes told him she didn't believe his shit anyway, but at least she didn't fight for her bag back.
He eyed the surrounding dunes. "Now if you'll accept a slight detour from our journey towards a ship outta this hellhole, I'd really like to double check the TIE fighter wreckage…" Looking down with a small frown, he surveyed the damage to his clothing. "With any luck," Not that he'd had much of that lately, "my damn jacket might still be there."