"Black Leader, go to sub-lights on your call."
It was the order Poe had been waiting for, and he sighed in relief. The shields were down. They could go in.
"Roger, base," he confirmed, flipping a few switches to bring his ship out of her hyperspace orbit. "Red Squad, Blue Squad, follow my lead."
Timing was critical. Even a second off would be too late, and the mission would be over before it began. Poe breathed deeply, then led his fighters out of hyperspace.
"Dropping out of lightspeed," said Blue Two Carlo Darklighter. Red Two Nien Nunb warbled a similar confirmation in Sullustan.
Poe caught his breath as Starkiller Base loomed into view. Kriff, it was huge. A massive opening gaped ominously in the center, and Poe felt chills go down his spine. He did his best to suppress a shudder. Things so unearthly, so unholy, should not be made to exist. BB-8 seemed to agree, chirping nervously.
"Yeah, I'll be glad when we're out of here, too," Poe muttered. He gunned his engines forward and descended through the planet's atmosphere. He briefly wondered what the planet had been called before the First Order relabeled it as a killing machine, then dismissed that thought as irrelevant. He had a mission, and he was going to see it through. No time for distractions.
Thin clouds quickly gave way to a snow-covered tundra decorated with small patches of conifers. Poe swooped in low over the trees, his squadrons keeping tight formation behind him. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the oscillator.
"Almost in range!" he said, his fingers curling around the triggers. "Hit the target dead center, as many runs as we can get!"
Closer, closer . . .
"Approaching target," came Snap's call.
Now!
"Alright, let's light it up!" Poe ordered, unleashing the full wrath of Black One's arsenal upon his target. He counted the seconds subconsciously as destructive fire burst from the other fighters under his command.
"Ha, direct hit!" Red Four Tosin Bastian laughed triumphantly.
"Yeah, but no damage!" Red Six Ello Asty countered.
Thirteen seconds. That's all the time they had. Poe glanced over his shoulder. They'd barely even made a dent. Stang.
"We gotta keep hitting it," Poe said, coming around in as tight an arc as he could muster. "Another bombing run. Remember, when the sun is gone, that weapon will be ready to fire, but as long as there's light, we've got a chance."
Poe took a deep breath and centered himself. Any moment now, the First Order would learn of their presence and unleash their own armada. He wanted to be back at the oscillator before that happened.
And it didn't seem to be happening anytime soon.
Massive hangar doors slid open and turbolaser cannons powered to life. Swarms upon swarms of TIE fighters shot out like a cloud of redjackets.
"Sweet mother of - " Poe quickly closed his S-foils and twisted to avoid smashing into an oncoming TIE. "Guys, we gotta lot of company!"
Poe clenched his jaw as his S-foils locked back into attack position. He swerved sharply and gave chase to the fighter he'd nearly collided with. A single depression on the triggers, and it was obliterated. Another. Another. Four shots, four fighters.
Poe steered Black One a little higher so he could assess the battle more clearly. His heart sank at how far they were outnumbered. For every TIE fighter gunned down, two more seemed to take its place. It suddenly occurred to Poe that, given the odds, they might actually lose this fight.
No. He'd said it himself. As long as there was light, they had a chance. The sun was shining. To hell with the odds.
Poe dove back down into the fray of battle, red laserfire bursting from his cannons. Seven shots, seven fighters downed. He guided his fighter in a low arc, dancing through ground fire. Four shots, four cannons downed.
"Damn it . . ." Poe muttered, shooting down three more TIEs. He needed to get back to the oscillator, but that would be suicide. A few weeks ago, he wouldn't have cared, but now . . . now, someone was out there depending on him to stay alive. So he gave the only tactical command he could. "Pull up, guys! Retreat to the outer atmosphere!"
"Poe, what are you talking about?" someone exclaimed.
"We need to get out of range for these ground cannons, and we're too cramped together down here," Poe explained . "So let's get a little higher."
"Copy that, Black Leader," Snap confirmed.
Poe closed his eyes briefly, letting his instinct take over. There was Snap's ship . . . Ello and Tosin flanking him twenty degrees below . . . Jess was banking around a group of TIEs . . . Nien Nunb and Carlo Darklighter were covering her . . . Kriff, were there already so many casualties?
"Arrow formation, single lines," Poe called, banking to one side. He twisted a full ninety degrees, flying on his side for a while as his squadrons lined up behind him in a leth shape. Six shots, six fighters. "Fill in whatever spaces you can."
Several "copy"s rang out over his comm, and Poe led his fighters out into space, his jaw set in grim determination. What happened at Hosnian must not be allowed to happen again.
"Sorry, Finn," Poe murmured, taking out another TIE fighter. "I'm still here, I promise." Four shots, four fighters.
The battle dragged on and on. Minutes felt like eternities. There seemed to be no end to the First Order's forces, and Poe's team was gradually diminishing.
BB-8 chirped sadly.
"No, we can still do this!" Poe argued. "We've still got time!" Switching over to his main comm, he urged what was left of his squadrons. "Come on, guys! Don't give up now! Find something worth fighting for and fight for it!"
Poe hoped that his words carried the conviction that he himself lacked. He could feel himself sinking into despair. He'd led his team - his friends - into a massacre.
Twelve shots. Twelve fighters.
Bank hard right.
Twist sixty degrees.
Three shots. Three fighters.
Nose dive, one-eighty vertical.
Two shots. Two fighters.
Close S-foils.
Twist negative twenty degrees.
Open.
Six shots. Six fighters.
Poe hardly even thought about what he was doing. Every movement, every twist and flip of his ship cam naturally to him, pure instinct lending him orders and leading him through the fray.
Suddenly, pain shot through Poe's chest like a vibrolance. His body jerked involuntarily, his control on his ship lost briefly. BB-8 squealed in alarm as Black One dipped to one side.
Oh my God, I've been hit.
Poe struggled to breathe as spots danced across his vision -
- a bridge -
- red light -
- pain -
- breathlessness -
"Thank you."
- he falls -
Another pain lanced through him, this time in his midsection. Poe cried out through gritted teeth, his fighter twisting erratically in response.
- a blast -
- numbness -
- darkness -
"No . . ."
"Poe?" Snap's concerned voice trickled through Poe's comm. "Poe, you alright there?"
As quickly as it had come, the pain was gone. Poe steadied his racing pulse and replied shakily, "Yeah, no worries."
He pulled Black One into an experimental curve. The ship seemed fine. Nothing felt out of order. "Hey, Beebee, how's she doing?"
The droid beeped a sarcastic reply.
Poe frowned. "You sure?"
BB-8's head swiveled and he chattered insistently.
"Okay, then." So the ship had taken no damage. Then what had Poe felt? A cold sense of dread crept through him. Surely not . . . surely not another flashback? He fired his cannons again.
Four shots.
Three fighters.
"What's wrong with me?" Poe whispered.
Five shots, four fighters.
His hands trembled on the controls, his finger quivering against the trigger. He couldn't get his mind to focus on the battle, the fight now.
Five shots. Three fighters.
Poe inhaled unsteadily. Exhaled. Inhaled again. Focus, Dameron, focus.
Six shots. Three fighters.
Focus.
Three shots. Two fighters.
FOCUS.
Four shots. Three fighters.
FOCUS!
Three shots. Three fighters.
Finally.
Five shots. Five fighters.
Yes!
Poe's eyes narrowed in determination as he sank back into the rhythmic tide of combat. Black One soared gracefully between bolts of laserfire, pilot and ship melded perfectly into a deadly killing machine. His pulse slowed, beating in time to the steady bursts of his fatally accurate shots. He had to make up for the time and targets he'd lost.
"We just lost Blue Two," Red Five Kale Antilles reported.
"What do we do now, Poe?" Jess asked, falling in line behind Poe's ship. "We're overwhelmed."
Poe knew, deep down, that she was right. The chances for survival were growing slimmer by the second. Still -
"Black Leader, there's a brand-new hole in that oscillator," Kale said, a note of hope rising in his voice. "Looks like our friends got in."
Peering to the side down to the frozen sphere below, Poe saw that Kale was right. He glanced at Starkiller's sun. They still had time.
I'm coming, Finn.
"Red Four, Red Six, cover us!" Poe ordered, swooping back down towards the snowy planet. "Everybody else, hit the target hard! Give it everything you've got!"
Poe plunged back through the clouds, decimating any fighter that was unfortunate enough to have been in his way. He allowed himself a small grin as he felt the familiar turbulence of atmospheric resistance wrapping around him like an old friend. Switching on his guidelights, he dived down into the trenches guarding the oscillator.
Three shots, three cannons.
Two shots, two fighters.
"I'm hit!" Ello cried as his ship was consumed by flames.
"Poe, I -" Blue Six Emma Sugaro didn't get a chance to finish her sentence before she shared Ello's fate.
"Come on, come on," Poe muttered, desperately searching for an opening. Four shots - one cannon, three fighters.
Leia's words - following the attack on the Star Destroyer so long ago - rang in his ears again: "Do not endanger your squadrons needlessly."
Time to end this fight.
Poe took a deep breath, then turned on his mic. "All teams, I'm going in. Cover me!"
"Copy that," Snap confirmed.
"Good luck, Poe," said Jess.
Poe closed his eyes and mouthed a quick prayer to himself. Locking his S-foils shut, he dove into the breach.
The complexity of the structure barely gave him any maneuvering room, but Poe wasn't hailed as the best pilot in the Resistance for nothing. Faint light trickled through small openings to the surface. There was still time.
Finally, Poe entered the oscillator's main chamber. No pursuers came after him. BB-8 whistled excitedly.
Jaw set in long-awaited triumph, Poe relentlessly shot down every support beam, every power generator, every fuel cell that entered his line of vision.
"This is for Ben, you sons of bitches!" Poe yelled as he fired the last shot into the heart of the oscillator. Banking around the circular chamber, Poe guided his fighter back the way he'd come.
A triumphant grin spread across his face as he regrouped with his squadrons. "We did it, guys!"
Whoops and cheers burst forth on his comm - both from his squadrons and back home.
Poe could see tremors and earthquakes tearing up the planet's surface, even in mid-air. Starkiller Base was dying.
And Poe had been the one to deliver the killing blow.
Out of the corner of his eye, Poe glimpsed the Millennium Falcon rising from the trees and nearly cried in relief. Han, Finn, and Chewie must have survived. He swung his craft over to meet the freighter and waved at the darkened cockpit, hoping that they'd see him.
Poe didn't conceal the elation in his voice as he commed his team one last time. "Our job's done here. Let's go home."