1/6/1 Y.O.

"Now what, Admiral Dameron?"

Poe's heard versions of that question more or less non-stop since Chewie started howling, and everyone realized no one had seen Leia for hours, and then they found the pile of clothing in the co-pilot's seat, and…

"Stop calling me that," he snaps. The only what he wants right now is the time and space to go cry until he can drink, and then drink until he can't remember why he's crying, and then, and only then, deal with all of these people who expect him to lead them.

Leia is gone. He's been with her for almost twenty years now. Seventeen-year-old hot shot newbie pilot assigned to her security detail back when she was a senator. That's how they met. He was star struck for a few minutes, until she opened her mouth and told him a wicked joke, and all of the tension and nervous and am I good enough for this melted away.

When she left the Senate, he went with her. When she began calling people to arms, he was the first one by her side.

He'd have flown to the end of the galaxy for her.

He mutinied against the only thing that mattered to him because he was sure Leia wouldn't approve of what Holdo was doing.

And now she's gone, and he's never, ever, felt less like a commander. But he's got followers, who are looking for a leader and… He doesn't exactly like Leia's plan. He loved her; he didn't always love her plans, though over the years he noticed that she tended to make good ones. But, enlisting if you can and then running for office sounds like something he could never do. Even if he weren't, now, the highest ranked living member of the Resistance, and therefor probably on the top of the Order's shoot on sight list. Hell, he was bad at following orders for a group he wholehearted agreed with and believed in. Doing it for The Fir—Order, as if that'll make much difference, sounds like being asked to gouge his own eyes out.

He rubs his forehead, eyes finding Finn, imploring him. Maybe… if he had the two of them… Finn half inclines his head back, and then looks to Rose, and both of them shake their heads. They are, for the foreseeable future, out of the Resisting business. And that's enough. He's not doing this on his own.

"You heard the lady, we're done. You want to hear the truth, that's it. We not only can't win at this point, we can't even muster a decent attack. The most we can do, and have been doing, is minor sabotage, that's proving useless because Ren's not attacking anyone, so his equipment isn't failing in the middle of a big battle with someone else, letting them win.

"The last sabotage, the last good one we got in, busted up when he put them through their training paces, blowing up asteroids, and then he had the entire line checked, found the problem, and got it fixed. And since then he's had his security so damn high on all of his production lines, there's just… nothing we can do!"

Rose doesn't growl, but it's close. Dumb fucking luck, or the Force, that he took the Citykillers to an asteroid field to put them through a thorough training run, and three of them broke up in maneuvers. Months of going undercover burned to cinders in ten minutes among useless chunks of rock.

"We're fucked. That's the way of it. We've been recruiting for a good solid year, and you're it. Officially, we've got 450 members, and this is everyone who could be bothered to come to a meeting. And if an actual fight broke out, less than a quarter of you would be any use, except…" Poe hates this. He wants to rip his hair out just having to say it. "We've got three fighters, one bomber with no bombs, and hand to hand weapons for twenty-five people, so I can't even put a quarter of you into a fight. And I can't hide you properly, either. We've got two fully set up hideouts, a dozen decrepit ones. And I can't pay you, the paycheck after next, I'll have burned through what's left of Resistance's accounts, and we're out of cash.

"I've got nothing. If Ren blows up another planet, we will have cash and recruits and people will give us ships to fight him, but he's not doing that, so… This is it, we're done. It's time to go our separate ways and find whatever peace we can. The war is over." He blinks, hard. Somehow, this hurts less than admitting it to Rey, but it still hurts. "We lost."

It takes two days for all of what used to be the Resistance to drift away from Lirium.

In the end, it's Finn and Rose, Chewie and R2D2, Poe and BB-8, and C3PO.

And though all seven of them are sad, six of them have a plan for what happens next. Once the rest of the Resistance is gone, Poe takes the small token out from under his shirt and explains what he and BB-8 have been up to, in addition to looking for Resistance recruits, for the last few months.

And eventually they notice that C3-PO hasn't said anything, not about the past, or the future, or anything, in days.

In fact, he's been out among the dunes, staring off into space, and... mourning.

There's a reason, beyond just the normal vagaries of personality, that most people do not order or create droids with emotional processing centers.

And C3PO is sitting on the beach wishing that whomever made him hadn't been so cruel as to do this to him. His mind, his circuits, his body, not only are they all well-nigh immortal, but he can be uploaded, copied, and put into new bodies until the end of time.

And that's not true of his people.

Who are, now, all gone.

He parted ways with Master Luke shortly after Endor, and though he didn't want to say goodbye to Master Luke, he understood there wasn't much need for him where Luke was going. He and General Solo never exactly got along, so he didn't mind too much when he left. And he hates the fact that it's true, but he was afraid of Master Ben, even as a toddler he could go into tempers that would fry the electronics of anything near him, and twice that included the loyal protocol droid who worked for his mother.

But General Organa… though that's not the name he thinks of her as… Princess Leia… His princess… He worked for her father and could remember her as a baby and growing up and bright and strong and…

And his lady, his reason for being, his purpose is gone.

R2 slowly ambles his way out there after another day. He's not exactly built to traverse sand easily, and it's been years since his little hover rockets have worked properly, but it's not like they're in a rush. Eventually, he gets there.

Lost?

"Yes."

I know. I felt that way when Luke left.

Threepio doesn't look to R2. "And would you suggest a decade long nap to take the edge off?"

I can guarantee it won't hurt.

Neither of them can roll their eyes, but the feel of C3-PO's derision is strong. "She won't be there when I wake up. She won't ever be back."

I know. He's gone, too. Han is. They all are. That's our real lot in life. What did you say, we were made to suffer?

"I was complaining about sand, not… this."

I know, but you weren't wrong. Unless something happens, we outlive them. So… find new humans, his visor turns to direction of the Falcon, currently out of view, where some of the new humans are, wipe your memory, or shut down. He extends his dataprobe. I'll take care of you, if you want me to.

Threepio thinks about it, for a long time.

"And do you have a theory of some new humans who need me?"

Chewie's got a suggestion, and Poe thinks it would help, too.

"What?"

A few thousand kilometers from here, Rey's building up her school. She needs someone who can teach people.

"Children?"

Children.

"And what do they need to learn?"

From what Poe's saying, pretty much everything. Girl never went to school herself. She can read and fix most anything. She's good with the Force, but that's pretty much it. So, history, politics, protocol. Whatever. Sing them lullabies and tell them stories of the world that came before them.

"The last human I did that for broke me four times. Twice before he was old enough to pronounce my name properly."

Well, he's not going to be there. These are different humans.

Threepio doesn't sigh, but it's clear from his silence and the way he's watching the ocean he's not comforted by that statement. Babies with serious Force powers are not anything he's comfortable with.

We're going there. Bring word, drop off supplies. Come with us, check it out, see if it looks like something you want to do.

"I don't want to do anything."

I know. R2 scoots a little closer. He was supposed to come back with us, you know? Supposed to come back with me. He turned me off, left me for a decade, one minute I'm in the wreckage of his school, next minute Kylo's running the First Order and Luke's in hiding because of him, and he gave me this shit about how I couldn't understand, didn't even try to explain, didn't come with us, and then just up and died on me. Bastard!

Threepio nods at that. Then he says, "Kylo?"

He changed his name before everything went wrong. 311 days before. Did they not tell you that?

"No. Master Luke came, and he spent a long time talking to General Solo and Senator Organa. General Solo and Chewie left. Gen—" But they're dead, all dead, and he never liked his title, anyway. "Han was so mad when he left that room he was shaking, cradling his hand, I know he had a few broken fingers, and I didn't see him or Chewie again until a few days before you woke up." He doesn't pause to take a breath, because he doesn't breathe, but… he does pause before he says it, "Leia" her name, alone, by itself, and intimacy he never allowed himself when she was alive, "didn't say anything about it when she and Master Luke left that room, but she was hurt, in her heart, and Master Luke, he was bleeding. Three missing teeth, a broken jaw, and black eye. I think Gen—Han punched him. But they never talked about it. And we put you in a closet and hoped you turn on again, sooner or later."

Fucking humans.

Threepio almost sniggers at that.

The new ones'll break our hearts, too, but it's better than oblivion, probably.

Threepio starts to get up, slowly. He can sit, but it's not exactly easy. "Probably. Take me to Rey and her school."

Good.

It's more hospitable than Tatooine. That's pretty much the only thing going for Rey's settlement, at least according to Threepio.

It's her, eight kids, an almost dozen structures, none of which are ideally suited for him, a dirt road, also not ideally suited for someone who's not really good in mud, no robotics workshop, no oil bath, limited tools, though Poe says that can be fixed, and Chewie backs that promise up, the power supply is iffy (Though Chewie knows a guy who knows a guy, and Finn's been sweet talking him, so… maybe soon they'll have a lead on a few shipstones.), and there isn't a proper classroom.

The Ewok village was more sophisticated than this place.

But there's eight children, and Rey's technically an adult, but the way she lights up at the idea of history and politics and protocol, and even how to read (Apparently, she's got some sort of Force thing going where she can understand printed text, any printed text, but she doesn't know her letters.) puts him in mind of a child, and…

And it's something to do. It's people who need him.

So, he says yes. And they set up a cottage for him, so he doesn't get rained on and has a flat floor under his feet, and in the morning, he has his first class, recent history, the rise and fall of the Rebellion.

And all eight of the children, and the one adult with the childlike eyes, all know about a princess who would eventually be a general, but they all seem to enjoy hearing the story, told by someone who loved her.

And it's not running a government, or helping with a Rebellion, or Resistance, or making sure his Lady knows the correct way to address a foreign dignitary, so that he feels comfortable and sociable and is willing to donate a good sized pile of money to whichever cause they're fighting for.

But it's not oblivion. And he does get to tell them about the things and people he loved.

So, for now, it's enough.