Part 1
Tallissan Lintra reclines against the headboard of her bed in the berth that runs along the corridor she shares with other members of the Blue Squadron. She is coasting through frivolous news about celebrities and gossip about politicians. It is the kind of thing she should be embarrassed to admit she follows but fuck all. She regularly risked herself for the Resistance on missions with limited chance of success. If she wants to use her few hours of downtime to hear about the romantic entanglements of a famous performer, she did it.
She likes reading these things even if, as Poe Dameron sometimes commented, it would rot her brain. There was little chance she would make it to old age, so she takes her enjoyments where she can.
Her mental vacation is cut short. An alarm erupts and on reflex she is up and moving to the door. She is jogging towards the hangar while adjusting the COM over her ear so she can hear the report and organizer her orders. She barks to her R9 astromech to prepare the ship and warm up the engines. Then the words were broken into as the mission information was passed to her.
She could wait until her pilots are situated in their cockpits, but instead she gestures, and they huddle at the base of the small ladder that gives her access to her cockpit. She is two rungs upwards and pivots so she can face them. They are used to her employing this kind of situational mission brief. They gather fast and give her attention.
Seeing her taking this position, Commander Dameron motions his squad to join the informal briefing. They pause from their headlong rush to their ships and cast their eyes up towards her.
"A large vessel has come out of hyperspace and is moving this way. Its markings and structure are a freighter class, but it is not responding to any hails. The intentions are unknown, and we need to go encourage them to be more forthcoming or address whatever malfunction is debilitating them. I want Blue 1-4 in forward formation and Blue 5-8 to take secondary place and cover. Keep your eyes open, but in case these are dumb haulers with broken coms…don't go mashing buttons until I give the order."
Poe isn't so short that he disappears in a crowd. He's moved to a place beside and below her. He signals his team to follow on her brief command. "What she said. Black 1-4 in forward position on my wing and 5-8 in holding pattern." Poe gives her a nod as he moves towards his craft.
Tallie models her leadership on her mentor Sha Torsis'. The old commander had a penchant for low key. The Cwellaran was a logistics officer prior to most of the rebel forces being annihilated. The species had head features with eyes, but the size of the ocular organs was huge and like dark mirrors on a wedge-shaped head. They had legs with long segments and powerful joints. On flat lands they were capable of fast speeds and high leaps. Their mouths were beakish and made the point of the head wedge. The native places for their species were outer core area, but they'd been space-going for generations and well insinuated in port and trade stations.
Sha Torsis' position in the ship's engine room meant she was one of very few leaders to survive. A burden and a blessing that she could try to preserve the wisdom of those contemporaries lost so suddenly and the need to move up. She did not like to raise his voice or ever sound unready. It was advice Tallie received from her old wing commander, too, when she took over for him. The words have served her well. She sends her squad into action with the expectation they can handle what is to come, no matter what.
The X-Wing fighter craft are arrayed on the landing field. They are dwarfed by the other shuttles and carriers, but their designs are pointier and sleeker. They are like birds that display their best assets for all to see. They do not offer comfort for their passengers but there is something exhilarating about flying them.
Poe is climbing into his black wing that is set next to hers. His team are mostly in their ships and he nod at her with a confident grin as he speaks into his small microphone. He loves taking the controls. He swivels to instruct BB8.
Tallie sees that R9 is secured in the back hold and his chirping and lights show the bot is doing as directed. She hasn't had use of him for very long. He hasn't developed the kind of rapport that a long-term droid assigned can exhibit. She won him as a concession after bitterly complaining that the constant rotation of droids to pilots caused operational delays in the pitch of firefights.
The noise in the bay has roared as ships cycle into their launch preparations. Data is flickering onto her screen with coordinates. She flips the switch that seals the canopy, Poe knocks on his as a gesture ahead of his jaunty salute. His wing is about to lift off. He is grinning. Probably the same way she is. He can't wait to get up there. She gives him a reply and twists to get visual assessment of if her team have all situated in their cockpits. She needs to give them space to clear the area. She does her preflight check by reflex. Then each of them calls in ready to her as the Black Squadron peels outward and upward.
Two squads are a robust response. She sees why once she gets to space. The hauler is a hulk of machinery. The kind of outsized behemoth. As her wing takes position, she goes to forward edge of the forward point. She opens the channel so she can take in Poe's early appraisal.
"It's ahead of us. No response to hails. No activities. The small maintenance side bay is open. Debris is trailing out. It's lost air seal integrity in the bay at least. We'll make a pass from stem to tail while Blue Squad takes up intercept position. Copy Blue?"
"Copy Black Squad," she answers and finds the placement he's indicated while the other squad does an uneventful swoop from stem to stern and then back.
She hears a toggle and knows he's swapped to a private communication channel. "What do you think?"
Tallie has been sharply focused on the hauler towards the places that might show early indication of a response. They are all still.
"I'll fire across the bow and see if that gets us any kind of answer."
She waits three beats and then sends out a shot.
"Either the captain has steel nerves, or no one can answer. What now?" There is another click and he's back to broadcast mode.
"Command, I propose we send in a search team. Myself, Corsu, Bane and Lintra. Remaining Blue Squad heads back to base and remains standby. The rest of Black Squad holds space-side position."
The four people named are evenly picked from both the squads. He's been practicing being more magnanimous since Crait. He makes concerted efforts to offer at least the illusion of incorporating others in decisions. Today is his usual style. He gives them the option to accept his mission direction.
Poe involves both their squads so that he doesn't force her team to supporting cast. It is an improvement from previous practice. She's noticed the change. Working beside him, she's never tried to copy his style, but she admires the way his talents inspire. To fly with his wing is prestige mark. There was a time she wanted that, but now she has her own command and she won't regret receiving that honor and she works to get the best performances from her team.
Command stamps their approval to his option, and she relays her expectations to her team while he sorts his. Then the four pilots break away and reform.
"Follow me," he directs. "Peel off at any signs of trouble and notify base."
Corsu dubiously asks? "Can't we just frag it?"
"That would be a lot of debris in the atmosphere if we blow it apart. Changing the course serves us better."
Corsu isn't appeased.
"Why do you think there is no answer?"
Bane chimes in on the line. "Could have been raided by pirates, lost critical functions and been abandoned. It could just be coincidence it is going to fall on top of our outpost."
"Save the speculation until we know more," Poe barks. "Scan for any kind of electrical signature or com." If Bane and Corsu hadn't had the exchange, Tallie would have expected Poe to vocalize the same items. She wondered, too, but having no answers refused to guess.
Tallie orders R9 to monitor so that she can use her eyes. She trusts those more than readouts. It is a very large ship and the closer she moves the less she can take in.
"It's bigger than I expected. Wish we'd gotten the word while it was further out. Ready to head in?"
He's back on a private channel to her. He likes to chatter but he knows that if he talked so much to the larger squad it would sound inane. Tallie lets him disperse the nerves by talking in her ear while they are on mission. It lets him seem composed and directed to his team. Few know his nervous tick the way she does.
"Let's head in," she answers, and sees his hand knock the canopy glass.
They position to take their ships in through the unsealed bay. BB8 has confirmed there are no shields. Once they land, they will either suit up walk into the unsealed landing bay or wait for the system to be re-initiated. She is planning ten steps even as she is carefully keeping her position off Poe's wing while they cross inside the superstructure of the hauler.
The bay they come inside of looks inert. Normal, but fixed in stillness. No droids, no signs of life, minimal signs of power. She sets down softly and swivels to take into account as many angles as possible. Then she talks to Poe on the private channel.
"We should send a droid ahead to scout."
"What if there is danger?"
"It could give us crucial time to know what we're facing."
Tallie knows he is thinking she means BB8 and he is possessed of an uncommon fondness for the rolling construct.
"R9 can make the assessment and tell us if the other areas of the ship are unsealed or need pressurization. We can have him reset the bay parameters if there is a blown series of fuses."
By volunteering her droid, she has relieved him of concern for his tiny shadow. He agrees and she triggers a release that deposits the droid from its perch behind her shoulder to the bay floor. She gives it instructions and it chirps and shuffles to the nearest gate door. They wait and the astromech provides readings back with little regard for context or relevance to its human masters.
It engages the bay systems at a docking panel and manages to restore the seal and pressure barrier. The bot does not know why the bay's systems were disabled.
At Tallie's instructions it makes its way to the command deck. Reporting readings as it goes in a bland chitter the mechanized devices use.
A beep signals her that R9 has something. "Captain is at the panel sleeping?" she frowns.
"Wake him up," she instructs.
A moment later the little machine indicates that he is sleeping soundly.
"I don't think he's sleeping," Poe mutters darkly then changes to open channels. "Full biocontainment Bane, Corsu and Tallie. Let's roll some ultraviolet along the hallways before we move through."
She drags out the suit and unbuckles her harness so she can undertake the pretzel maneuvers required to fully lock out contagion. She takes out the mask and makes sure the filters are in good order before sliding it in place and locking the seal. She orders R9 to start bathing the command deck with ultraviolet lights. The droid acknowledges and begins.
When Tallie comes down from her craft in the loose-fitting, blue hooded coveralls she takes stock as Poe motions her to turn so he can inspect the back of her suit. Once he taps her shoulder, she makes the same inspection check on his suit. Corsu and Bane copy their lead.
"Looks like two of you would fit in there," Poe gives her a small tight smile. "Good call on the droid inspection, first. Know of any outbreaks of the kind that could overwhelm a ship like this?"
"Nothing I've come across. Hope that isn't what this is. R9 tries, but he isn't very intuitive, yet. Limited experiences make him a slow on the uptake."
"Yeah. Noticed that in its 'sleeping' estimation."
"We've flown sorties in space. The little guy hasn't come in contact with dead bodies, yet."
"It's a he?" Poe raises an eyebrow, as if the conversational diversion is worthwhile right now.
Tallie just knocks her head to an angle in impatience. "Does it matter?"
"Curious why you think the dumb, little, roller skate is a guy."
She deadpans. "We've got a possible biohazard to go scout, now, sir."
"R9, any other bodies on the bridge?"
The robot indicates no. He follows up. "Did you see any other crew moving or asleep when you traversed the ship to the bridge?"
The negative response makes him sigh. "Ok. Let's go there and see if we can figure out if this is contagion or something else."
*Author's note. My prior stories were reylo. I wanted to try something with Poe. The story is gimmicky, but hope you enjoy.