Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. I, in fact, own very little, so I hope the real owners don't mind me having a little fun with their creations.

Reviews are most welcome – but please be gentle. I do not have a beta reader, so please excuse any typos/mistakes. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Spoilers for The Force Awakens, so don't keep reading if you haven't seen the movie yet.

Chapter 1

Poe Dameron stood at the entrance to a deserted alley, making sure to keep himself hidden from sight. The man he was supposed to meet with, Nuary, was already fifteen minutes late, and with each passing minute, Poe grew exponentially more nervous. The sun was starting to set, and Poe wanted to start back toward the Resistance hideout before the planet's indigenous nighttime creatures came out. It was generally his practice to avoid the chance of being eaten alive if at all possible.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black utility jacket to keep them still and resolved that he would only risk waiting a few more minutes before he would have to head back. He knew General Organa was counting on the maps Nuary planned to deliver, but Poe also knew he couldn't wait on the man forever. The blaster on his hip gave him some comfort, but the longer he waited the more scenarios he could think up for what might have gone wrong. Was it a trap? Would Nuary double-cross them? Did Nuary just take the half-payment he'd already received and never planned on delivering the maps? Could Nuary have been picked up by a street patrol and was at this very moment telling the First Order all about his rendezvous with Poe?

This is why Poe hated spy work. He was a pilot at heart, and he was at his best when he was in a cockpit. In the cockpit, Poe was the one in control. As Black Leader, he made the decisions. The covert missions the Resistance had been running lately were wearing on his nerves. General Organa was gathering pieces of a puzzle Poe couldn't see. It annoyed him that he was being moved around like a game piece yet he didn't have a high enough security clearance to know what the end-game was.

Worse still, General Organa's latest series of missions had led them deep into Imperial territory. One mistake was all it would take for them to be found out. And out here, everything was unfamiliar. The planets, the technology, the ships, the customs, and even some of the alien species he had never seen before. The Empire, now the First Order, had kept a stranglehold on these parts since before Poe was born, and he figured he and the small band of Resistance fighters were the first true outsiders to set foot in this part of the galaxy in a long time. He was out of his league (whether he would admit it or not), and he was afraid the Resistance had bitten off more than it could chew this time.

Poe had just decided to start the long trek back to the Resistance's hideout when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Nuary had just rounded the corner at the end of the block and was sauntering down the street as if he had all the time in the world. Nuary made a show of stopping to look in a few store windows, and Poe could feel his blood start to boil. Poe tried to check his irritation, and he took the opportunity to study the man as he approached. Nuary's species, the Grash, had a series of four, thin tentacles on each side of their faces. The tentacles closest to their chins were short, and each subsequent tentacle grew longer along the jawline. Other than that, the Nauskuat looked like any other human. Nuary had on a plain brown robe tied with a leather belt at the waist, which showed off his sizeable belly. All in all, Nuary looked unimpressive, and Poe figured that's what made the man perfect for this kind work.

Nuary casually walked to the entrance of the alley, looked around nonchalantly, and then quickly joined Poe in the cover of the alley.

"Do you have it?" Poe asked, sounding a little more curt than he had intended.

If Nuary minded Poe's curtness, he didn't show it. "Of course," he said, keeping his voice low. He reached into his dark brown robe and pulled out a small device. "You got the credits?"

Poe reached into his own dark jacket and pulled out a small leather satchel. Nuary casually took the satchel, placed the device in Poe's empty hand, and walked back out of the alley again without looking back.

The nervous knot in Poe's belly instantly melted as he gripped the device tighter. He examined the device and wondered if he should have had Nuary turn it on just to make sure it held the maps they needed.

He waited in the alley for a few more minutes so it didn't look like he and Nuary left at the same time, and then he peered around the corner into the street, looking for street patrols. Before coming to the Imperial territory, he often wondered why anyone would be loyal to the Empire or to the First Order. He know knew that constant surveillance and intimidation kept most of their population in check. On every Imperial world they'd been to so far, the First Order was always watching – security cameras, droid surveillance, foot patrols. Total and complete control.

When he saw that the street was empty of patrols, he stepped out of the alley and started walking in the opposite direction of the Resistance hideout, just in case he was being watched. He would double-back and circle around later. The planet, Scaros, had only a small spaceport, which meant that it was less advanced than any of the other planets they had visited in the Imperial territory. It also meant that the First Order's presence was lighter as well, which was a welcome respite for the Resistance. General Organa had them set up a semi-permanent hideout, so Poe figured they might be on Scaros for some time. Not that he minded. He was bone tired, and he felt he and his men could use a little rest.

But the missions and the constant stress of being deep in enemy territory were not the only things making Poe tired. He hadn't been sleeping that well lately. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he'd been suffering nightmares ever since Kylo Ren's "interrogation." He was afraid of what the dark Jedi might have done to his mind, afraid that the nightmares were signs or traces of something more serious, and so he chose to ignore it and keep pushing forward. He got a few hours of sleep every night, and there was plenty to keep him busy anyway.

A loud, grating noise caught his attention. Poe tensed and looked quickly for cover. He wondered if it was one of the surveillance droids the General had warned him about. He had just ducked behind a large sign standing outside a vacant droid repair shop, when he saw the source of the noise.

A woman was pushing what appeared to be a malfunctioning hovercraft down the street. The hovercraft looked as if it were full of fresh foods from the market. Poe guessed the woman had been shopping and was on her way home when the craft broke down. He watched as the woman pushed with all her strength, which was barely enough to move the hovercraft forward a few inches. He couldn't see much of her behind the craft, but her face was red from overexertion. He felt the need to help her, but was conflicted. He had incredibly sensitive information – information that he needed to get back safely to General Organa. The woman could very well be a loyal citizen of the First Order and would happily turn him over if she suspected he was with the Resistance. Plus, he simply didn't have the time to help her. The sun was about to set. It would be pitch black soon, and he had a long, and dangerous, trek back to the Resistance hideout.

It was thoughts of the coming darkness that finally compelled him out from behind the droid repair sign. He wouldn't feel right leaving her pushing that thing home in the dark.

"Need some help?" he asked, trying to appear friendly. He certainly didn't want to set off any alarms.

The woman jumped slightly. She clearly had not noticed him at all. She glanced at his face for a moment and then focused again on the hovercraft. "No, thank you. I can manage." Her Imperial accent was thick, which instantly made him regret his offer to help. He figured he was now offering aid to devoted citizen of the First Order.

She ignored him and continued to push the hovercraft. Against his better judgment, Poe offered again, "You look like you aren't making much progress." He tried to keep the smirk from his face, but he felt the edges of his mouth twitch up slightly.

"I'll be fine. I don't have much further to go." She gestured to the end of the block. "I'm just headed to the cantina at the end of the street." She pushed again.

"In that case, why don't you let me help you?" Poe circled around to her side of the hovercraft. The woman backed away and looked worriedly down the street. Poe put both hands on the disabled craft and gave it a big push. He was able to keep the craft moving steadily forward, but he was surprised at its weight. Glancing quickly at the woman next to him, he noticed that she was quite small. He guessed she was barely over 5 feet tall, and she looked frail-thin to him. He wondered how she'd had the strength to push the hovercraft at all.

After a few moments of silence, the woman spoke first. "I think it's the dampener. It's been acting funny for a few days now, and I guess it finally gave out." She spoke nervously, and Poe again wondered if he had made the right decision. "Thank you, by the way," the woman added. "I'm not sure if I would have made it much farther myself." She smiled softly at him, and Poe just nodded back as he continued pushing.

He took a moment to evaluate her to see if there was anything he should be worried about. Her hair was silvery blonde, a color he was not used to seeing – another peculiarity of the peoples within the Imperial territory. She had it pulled back in a loose plait, and several strands had broken free during her struggle with the disabled craft. He had glimpsed her eyes once, and they were a clear, gray-blue color. She was pretty, but he'd probably call her features average.

The woman stayed quiet beside him, and he was afraid to speak lest he give something away. He examined her clothes to see if she had any markings of the First Order. There was a thick, metal choker around her neck. He'd seen it on a few others since they'd been in the Imperial territory, so he figured it must be a popular Imperial style necklace. Her thick black boots, nearly knee high, were reminiscent of the combat boots most of the recruits wore in the Resistance. She had on a faded green, asymmetrical skirt with an off-white trim. The matching faded green vest she was wearing looked like it was made out thin, worn cloth. One side had a short sleeve, the other no sleeve at all. The exposed arm had a few strange symbols running down to her elbow. All in all, the woman looked small and plain, and he doubted she had any connection to the First Order at all.

Finally, they reached a side-entrance to the cantina. "Here is fine," the woman said. Poe thought he could sense a little tension in her voice.

"Are you sure? I can push it all the way in."

"No need. I can take it from here." The woman smiled kindly, but avoided his eyes. "Thank you again. I'm sure I would have been in trouble if I had been gone much longer."

Poe wasn't sure what else to say, so he just said, "I'm glad I could help." Something about her behavior struck him as off, but he couldn't risk asking more. "So long," he said as he gave a small wave and started walking away.

The woman turned back to the cantina and opened the side door. As Poe neared the droid repair shop again, he could hear a man shouting from the cantina, "Where have you been? I knew I should have sent a droid instead! You get in here right now before I…" the cantina door slammed closed again, and Poe was unable to hear the last of the man's threats.

He felt a twinge of guilt, leaving her to her fate, but he forced his mind to quickly change gears again. He needed to focus on getting safely back to the Resistance hideout without being tailed, and now that the sun had finally set, without being eaten.