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.

As always, reviews are most welcome – but please be gentle. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 5

"You can't tell me you don't wonder sometimes too."

"Wonder about what?" Poe asked as he sat down at a table in what served as the mess hall of the Resistance's hideout. Vivi Decai, a Resistance pilot under Poe's command, was having an animated conversation with a med tech, and Poe had arrived in the middle of it.

Vivi raised an eyebrow. "About Luke Skywalker."

Poe shot her a quizzical look as he plunged a fork in his mouth. "What about Luke Skywalker?" he asked between chews.

"You know," she motioned with a open hand like Poe should be able to fill in the blank.

He mimicked the motion back to her, "What?"

Vivi rolled her eyes. "Like you've never thought about it."

Poe looked across the table to the med tech, Ensign Dowes, who just shook his head as if warning Poe to drop it. Poe instead put down his fork and looked Vivi directly in the eye. "Out with it, Decai."

"Come on. The guy has been in hiding for years - completely alone. We find him, and suddenly he's getting secret instructions from the ghost of Obi-Wan Kenobi?" her tone dripped with sarcasm.

Poe motioned again. "So..."

"So, why now? Why all of a sudden? Why not before? Warn us about Starkiller or something? Don't you wonder if he's actually talking with Kenobi?" She paused and then leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "What if years of self-imposed exile was too much of a strain on him? What if he just thinks he's hearing voices."

Vivi stopped and waited for a reaction from Poe. When he remained silent, she continued, "No one in command has ever told us what Kenobi told Skywalker or what we are really doing out here. We've been following the instructions of a Force-ghost, given to a man who's been isolated for years. We've been going from planet to planet and it all seems random...like there is no plan at all." She paused for a moment of dramatic effect. "Aren't you just a little bit worried that we followed a mad man deep into enemy territory."

Poe picked up his fork again and moved his eyes down to his plate. Without looking up, he spoke in a calm tone, "I don't want you saying things like that again, especially not while we're mid-mission. You have doubts, you bring them to me - in private - and we can talk about them then." Poe raised his eyes to Vivi as he finished. A wave of fatigue hit him, lack of sleep and the weariness of being on edge for so long, but he made sure to firmly hold her gaze.

"Yes, sir," Vivi said, looking quite chastised.

There was an awkward silence between the three until Tupper slammed his tray on the table and loudly pulled out the chair next to Poe. "I finally got that thruster out of the hovercraft, Commander. Next step is to retrofit it to the transport. With any luck, we'll have a working Imperial-style transport shortly." Tupper, unaware of the tense exchange moments before, began heartily eating his meal. "But the rest of that hovercraft is junk. I had to shove it into a corner until I have time to see if anything else is worth salvaging. Boy was that thing heavy to push!" He huffed as he bit off a piece of bread.

Tupper's demeanor somewhat broke the tension, so Poe resumed eating as well. "The woman who used it before would agree with you. Schala had a heck of a time trying to push that thing to the Ark the other night."

"Did you say Schala?" The four of them froze as a voice rang out across the room.

Poe slowly turned around to see Luke Skywalker sitting by himself in the far corner. Poe's stomach dropped as he wondered how long Luke had been there, and if he had heard the earlier conversation with Vivi. Luke was staring intently at Poe, but said nothing more.

Poe rose from his chair and began walking toward Luke. "Yes, sir. Schala is the name of the woman I got the thruster from the other day." Luke's gaze stayed locked on Poe, but he didn't move or get up. When he reached the table Luke was sitting at, Poe remained standing, waiting to see what Skywalker would say next.

Luke closed his eyes for a moment - Poe assumed to commune with the Force - and then rose abruptly, startling Poe. "Bring her here," was all he said as he left the mess hall.

Poe stood in place watching Luke leave, and Vivi's question rang in his mind. Aren't you just a little bit worried that we followed a mad man deep into enemy territory?

He calmly walked back to the table where Tupper, Vivi and Dowes were at, picked up his tray and made his way to the door. "I've gotta talk to General Organa."

Poe arrived at the cantina just before nightfall and took the last open spot at the bar. He ordered a drink and kept his head down, hopeful that if he was still long enough, he would just fade into the crowd and no one would notice him. As the cantina grew busier and more crowded, he finally felt comfortable enough to look around.

The kitchen door swinging open caught his eye, and he looked over just in time to see Schala walk through. Her serving tray was full of drinks, and he watched her as she served three tables across the room from him. He saw her give a kind smile to the patrons at each table, but he could also see the same shyness in her that he noticed when they had met. She kept her head and her eyes down as if she were trying to garner as little attention as possible. He ordered a second drink as he watched her work, partly to kill his nerves and partly because he had no idea what to say to her.

General Organa had been as vague as Luke had been. She merely told Poe to follow Luke's command as her own. So here he was at the cantina, tasked with somehow convincing a near stranger (and possible First Order sympathizer) to come with him to the secret Resistance hideout. Easy, right? He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but he knew it was no joke.

Poe watched Schala as she went back and forth from the kitchen to the tables, and he took the time to study her features more closely. She might never be considered breathtaking, but she had a quiet beauty and gentleness that Poe found intriguing. He was used to women as pilots, fighters, Resistance leaders - all rough edges and self-confidence. Schala was clearly the opposite of that. There was a grace to her movements he had not noticed before - a grace that made him wonder if she had ever been more than a just waitress.

He soon finished his second drink, and he still had no idea how to even approach her, let alone get her to cooperate. He hated to consider it, but laying on the charm might be his only option. He remembered how nervous she had seemed around him, how a rosy blush warmed her cheeks, so he knew she was attracted to him.

He wondered if she found him attractive enough to be willing to go with him. He hated the idea of seducing her, but what other choice did he have? How else do you ask a stranger to accompany you to a secret hideout in the wilds of Scaros? As he saw it, his only other option would be to force her to come with him - essentially kidnap her - and that did not sit well with him. Working as a spy, he had done a lot of things he didn't like, but was he capable of kidnapping a woman?

He was startled from his thoughts by someone loudly placing a drink in front of him at the bar. Poe turned to see Quilp, the cantina owner, plopping down next to him.

"Hello again, my friend! Your cup looked empty, so I brought you another. This is the good stuff, not the swill you've been drinking." Quilp spoke loudly, so as to put on a show for everyone around them. Poe cringed inwardly. He had hoped to remain unnoticed and to avoid Quilp. "So how's that hovercraft I sold you?"

Poe took a quick sip of the drink Quilp offered, partly because he didn't want to seem suspicious and partly to calm his own nerves. "Not well, actually. It barely lasted the trip home before it broke down completely." Poe thought that complaining about the hovercraft purchase might make Quilp want to leave quickly.

The cantina owner instead laughed loudly. "Unfortunate for you, my friend, but that is the luck of the draw sometimes." He clapped Poe firmly on the back, and Poe had to grip the edge of the bar to keep his seat. Poe smiled weakly, raised the glass to Quilp, and downed the rest of the drink.

Now that Quilp had seen him, Poe figured it would be best to leave now and then try again tomorrow. He fished in his pockets for some Imperial credits, but couldn't remember which pocket he put the money in.

"Not so fast my friend. I think we have more business to discuss." Quilp motioned to the droid bartender, and another drink was placed in front of Poe.

Poe cocked an eyebrow at Quilp. "More business?"

"I couldn't help but notice your interest in another piece of my property." Quilp's voice remained very business-like, but his eyes narrowed at Poe.

After chugging that third drink, a feeling of drunkenness was starting to creep over Poe, and he found he couldn't think straight enough to figure out what Quilp was talking about. "What property is that?" He shook his head slowly as if that would clear his foggy brain. What was in the drink Quilp had given him?

Quilp nodded his head toward some tables in the back. Poe leaned to side of his stool to look around the bartender droid, and he saw Schala cleaning empty glasses off a table. As if she could tell something was going on between the two of them, Schala looked up and her eyes met Poe's. Poe knew he was inebriated and Schala was too far away, but it seemed to him that for a moment he could see the stark blue of her eyes and he could not look away.

Quilp moved in closer. "I'll repeat myself: I noticed your interest in another piece of my property." He grinned as he rubbed his greasy chin. " Schala is my property. I own her."

Poe's mind boggled for a moment as he took in Quilp's words. Schala ducked her head and disappeared as she carried her tray of empty glasses back into the kitchen. Quilp pushed the glass into Poe's hand and, even though he knew he shouldn't, Poe took another long drink. His brain was moving so slowly, he didn't notice that Quilp was perched over him, like a predator over his prey. At that particular moment, Poe would have given anything to be in the cockpit of his X-Wing, able to fly away from this place and into the freedom of hyperspace.

He doubted he would be able to make such a clean getaway tonight. Schala being a slave just made things way more complicated. It would've been hard enough to convince her to come with him (he was a stranger after all), but now he knew that she never had a choice in the matter anyway. Quilp was the one who decided when and where Schala went.

He felt a twinge of anger in his gut, anger that a grubby creature like Quilp owned Schala and had control over her. He told himself that it was just his protective instincts kicking in, his impatience with injustice. But now was not the time to get involved or to right the wrongs of the galaxy. He only needed Schala temporarily - the rest of her life was none of his business.

He took a deep breath to clear his head and calm his nerves, and then turned fully to Quilp, hoping he would be able to handle whatever was coming next. Surely, he could think on his feet and come up with something? Quilp turned fully to Poe as well, the sly smile slowly growing bigger on his face.

A/N: Sorry for not updating in forever. Real Life got in the way and kind of gave me writer's block. Things are finally calming down for me, so hopefully I'm at a place where I can write more and update more...if there is anyone left still interested in reading! ;-)