The night was cool, yet there was no breeze. The sky was a deep ink blue, small clusters of stars twinkled in the moonlight. Poe Dameron sat atop a fallen tree, his legs stretched the length of the trunk. With his head tilted upwards up towards the heavens, Poe sat in a thoughtful silence.

His Astromech droid, BB-8 ventured a few yards away from the fallen tree trunk, its dome shape head and antenna only just managed to skim the tops of the grass. A content hum escaped the droid as it rocked back and forth, almost as though he were purring. The orange and white droid mirrored his master's actions, his head rolled backwards on his circular body, his single eye like photoreceptor observing the starry night.

A sigh passed through Poe's lips and he swung his legs over the side of the tree trunk. Dragging the tips of his fingers through his hair, Poe cussed quietly. Instinctively, his droid swivelled on its axis and rolled towards him, beeping loudly.

"Beebee-Ate," Poe began as his droid bumped into his leg. He hadn't known the Astromech for very long but already, he was more than fond of it. Poe was sure that BB-8, too, was fond of him.

The droid had come to him broken, physically and emotionally. It was out-dated and ridiculed by its previous owner; Poe had lost count of the hours he had invested fixing the Astromech, or the days he spent coaxing it gently out of its easily frightened shell. His companion was still skittish, but the trust that it had for its master, the bond it shared with him could not be so easily broken.

Lowering his hand as the droid went to bump into his leg again, Poe cushioned the impact with his hand. "I'm alright, my friend."

BB-8 beeped again, not believing Poe for a second, but resolved to roll away nonetheless, its dome-like head backwards, a concerned hum escaping it and photoreceptor eye fixed on the pilot.

It took quite at lot to unnerve Poe Dameron, the courageous Starfleet Commander for the New Republic. Not even the prospect of his own death could strike a sense of fear or unease in his heart. Poe was bold and daring, as all Commanders venturing into the unknown were.

However, the one thing that managed to make his stomach churn with ease was the thought of leading his squadron to their demise. His squadron trusted him fully, nor did they question his command. The last thing Poe wanted – and perhaps, the only thing he actually feared – was losing the lives of those he truly cared about.

Poe watched his droid disappear in the grass before he turned his head up to look at the stars once more. The night was long and he was anxious. It was always like this before they were deployed on missions to patrol the Mirrin sector trade lanes after reports of piracy reached the Republic Base. Whenever this news reached Poe's ears, he would lie awake the night before, fearing that if he made one wrong decision, the lives of his comrades, of the Rapier Squadron would be lost.

"Beebee-Ate?" he called softly and, half a second later, the orange and white dome head of his droid emerged from a sea of long grass. "Would you trust me, even if I doubted myself?"

BB-8 chirped reassuringly, rolling to his masters side.

"Why?" Poe asked after a few moments pause. BB-8 beeped again, nudging into his shin. He clasped his hands together and leaned forward so that BB-8 did not have to look up at him.

"When I was very little, my mother told me that the reason why she joined the Republic was because people were hurting – they were suffering and she could not just sit around and watch." Poe paused, a chagrin expression on his face. "What if people hurt because of me? What if they suffer because of the decisions I make? I don't wish that upon any of them."

A soft whistle escaped the droid as it swivelled on its axis. BB-8 knew his master was worried, but also knew he could trust Poe completely – even with life itself.

"Do you really think so?" Poe asked, listening to his friend. Reaching out, he placed a hand gently atop BB-8's head. "Thanks, buddy."

Rapier Squadron had left hyperspace, the stars still settling around them and already, Poe Dameron, Starfleet commander was bored. They had patrolled these laneways for weeks and nothing interesting ever seemed to happen. Today was no different from any other day.

"Tell me," Karè Kun's voice crackled into the cockpit of his T-85 X-wing. It was monotonous and sounded as equally as bored as he. "Do space pirates actually frequent the Mirrin sector or are we just babysitting these people because of a myth?"

Poe didn't respond. He knew Karè wasn't looking for an answer, only a means to vent her frustration at being deployed for the fifth week straight to a system that held little to no action whatsoever.

From its socket in the side of his X-wing, BB-8 burbled happily to itself, the Astromech's head rotating this way and that, as though it were stargazing; daydreaming. Poe's lips tugged upwards into a small smile. The little droid had a personality of its very own, quite childlike and naïve. Briefly, he wondered what the little droid was thinking.

Occasionally, information blinked across monitor in the cockpit, one designed to translate the binary in which the Astromech's spoke, not that Poe needed one to understand BB-8.

The droid continue to burble to itself, incoherent to its master, whilst Poe picked out small pieces of information that the mech was sharing with him.

The Mirrin Sector was a trade populated by all kinds of freighters used to transport particulars large amounts of goods from one end of the galaxy to the next. Heavier freighters are often slow and have very little in the way of defence and so often required an escort. Some notable escorts of heavy freighters included the Milennium Falcon and the Ghost, which-

"Alright, Beebee-Ate," Poe interrupted and the binary translation on the monitor disappeared. "I get it. Can you see anything interesting?"

The droid whirled his head to look at his master as though Poe had asked if he was purple and white, not orange. A single, somewhat sarcastic chirp escaped the droid before his head rotated back to look out at the ships passing through the Mirrin Sector.

The constellation Apollo was first discovered by scout –

"Okay, yes," Poe sighed. "That's definitely interesting. Beebee-Ate, I'll see what I can do about taking you to get a closer look at the constellation after we've finished up here, alright?"

BB-8 burbled its excitement.

"But for now," Poe said. "Can I get you to scan the area? Keep an eye out for anything unusual, please buddy."

A chirp from BB-8 meant that it was time to work and turned his dome like head this way and that, his photoreceptor eye scanning all passing freighters.

"This has got to be one of the most boring systems," Muran grumbled, his static voice filling the X-wing's cockpit. The pilot heaved a heavy sigh and leaned back as best he could, the safety belts secured around his chest and shoulders constricted with the sudden jolt of movement. "Why won't something happen already?"

"My apologies," Poe responded, before he could stop himself. "In future, I will be sure to send an invitation to the Guavian's. Maybe we can all have a picnic."

The sound of laughter came through the radio; first it was Karè's, then she was joined by Iolo.

"Sounds lovely," Muran replied and Poe did not have to see his friend to know that he was smiling. "Maybe we can invite the Kage marauders, too. It'll be a party."

A scream escaped BB-8 and were it not for the harnesses that held him in place, Poe would have jumped right out of his seat in shock. It was not the scream of a droid in pain, nor was it the sound a droid makes before they die – both of which Poe was familiar with, and he hoped he would never have to hear BB-8 make those noises.

Instead, it was a scream of alarm, his head rotating immediately to face Poe, a string of incoherent, fast paced burbles reached the Starfleet Commander's ears. Even the binary translator struggled to keep up with the Astromech, the correspondence disjointed.

"Beebee-Ate," Poe said, almost as quickly as the droid was babbling. "Slow down, what did you pick up?" His heart was racing and his hands felt themselves wrap tightly around the control stick of the X-Wing.

The information that BB-8 had shared appeared on his screen once more as the droid struggled to transmit the data slow enough for the pilot to keep up with. Yissira Zyde, the information read, a NK-Witell-class freighter was in trouble. BB-8 had picked up its distress call and, seconds after the data had disappeared from the display monitor, a loud blast of static filled the cockpit, followed by the broken, stained voice of the Zyde's captain.

Poe reached for the intercom, speaking as calmly as possible into the X-Wing's microphone. "Looks like we've got our party, guys," he said. "But I don't think it'll be with the Marauders." He turned to the orange and white droid, stationed in the Astromech socket just behind the cockpit. "Beebee-Ate, transmit all data to the Squadron."

BB-8 chirped once in response before focusing his attention on sharing what he had picked up with the other X-Wings.

"Alright," Poe said after the distress call had come to an abrupt halt. He shot a sideways glance at his droid. "Can you get a fix on their location, Beebee-Ate? Transmit it to all Rapiers, please."

Again, the little droid chirped his response before putting all of his effort into what Poe had asked. The cockpit's monitor came alive, a map of the Mirrin Sector came onto the digital display, BB-8 working as hard as he could to hone in on the location of the distress call. Poe waited on the edge of his seat as the little droid worked as fast as he could. Then suddenly, BB-8 gave a triumphant chirp.

He had done it.

"Alright guys, we got it. Suraz 4. All Rapiers – hyperspace. Let's do this."

A/N: Finn is easier to write about orz
Sorry if things seem a little off with this, I tried my best.