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Chapter Text

The Resistance were unleashing a barrage of fire onto the ship as Poe made his way cautiously through the stark white interior of the Supremacy. He had successfully landed an old TIE star-fighter onto the flagship without much hassle after evading the technicians who lingered on the hanger with the chaos of enemy fire raining down from the outside. He had been tasked with boarding the craft and gathering intel of the First Order's plans. It was to be a quick in and out job with the Resistance unleashing an attack as a decoy for Poe to go in and get what the Resistance needed- valuable intel.  

The empty drive sits in his pocket, his finger-tips grazing the casing of it as the Supremacy shudders under the onslaught of fire. He aimed to head towards the bridge of the vessel, orders to kill anyone who got in the way of the mission rattling around in his mind as he moves swiftly down the hall. Was this the way of the Resistance? To launch attacks and spare the fewest of men to go in and receive what is needed while the other Rebels wait and sit on their asses as the bravest of souls go and die for the cause. It a question that plagues him as he hears the faint screams of injured men, the ship wails with them as if it too was mourning the loss of lives. 

“You do what you have to do in war” General Organa had told him, “Sacrifices need to made to achieve our ultimate goal- peace for the galaxy.” 

Haven’t they sacrificed enough? What are they sacrificing themselves for? It doesn’t seem like these missions do much more than add intel for the next big hit which a handful of Rebels will die for without much progress. It goes around and around and Poe’s sick of it, of this endless loop of one side making a move and the other retaliating back with no end in sight to justify the means. 

He’s so close to the main bridge now, he’s sure of it. The sound of thundering footsteps of First Order troops and their commanding officer shouts are only background noise this far into the interior of the ship. He ducks into an alcove at the sound of an air-lock releasing, freezing in place as a small group of troops come out from the bridge that was Poe’s main objective.  Although his thoughts wander as he stays still and silent in the alcove in the hopes the troops move by without detecting his presence. 

Counter moves and counter strikes… It was bearable when he was able to fly, to join his squad and fly his X-Wing in the expanse of space. Up there he didn’t have to see the face of those he killed, didn’t have to think about the ramifications of his actions- only the goal as a whole. Now with his demotion from Commander he’s fallen from grace, from his calling, and now he’s stuck on the ground to stand face to face with those people. It’s tangible now, too simple to envision himself in these people he’s bound to kill as he walks past their ranks and it’s too easy to wonder if this moment is their last. It’s too real now, this espionage Organa has tasked him with, as if him gaining information is enough to suffice for the wrong calls he’s committed in the past as if plans can redeem all the innocent blood on his hands, the lost trust of his comrades. 

He must have been standing frozen on the spot for longer than he thought for Poe’s only snapped out of his spiralling thoughts with the sound of an air-lock door releasing. The sound doesn’t come from the bridge this time but back towards the way Poe had originally came from. A half-baked plan comes to him, he could collect a security badge from the passerby in order to enter the room without raising suspicion at first. So like a gun going off prematurely, Poe moves from his cover waltzing into the hall and into the sight of the newcomer in a bid to catch them off guard. Hands a beat to slow move towards the holster at his side and he’s even more stunned by not being shot by a blaster to register that it is not some low ranking stormtroopers who had entered the hall but someone else entirely. 

Signature red hair is the fist thing Poe notes as he takes in the equally stunned expression of General Armitage Hux. The general’s uniform is slightly crinkled and his hair isn’t as immaculate as the other always seemed to have it. The only thing recognisable with the usual Hux is the straight posture and aristocratic expression. 

The pilot doesn’t resist when the General strides towards him, instead he had gone pliantly, highly aware of the way Hux had lingered his hand on the loaded holster at his side in a silent threat. Hux had crowded him into his freshly left alcove as soon as he’d spotted Poe, a faint up-curl of his lips the only indication of his thoughts as he’d muscled Poe into the space.

'When had I stooped so low?' Is the thought that fills Poe's mind as he's crowded into a white sterile alcove of a deserted hall-way aboard the enemies flag-ship. His current objective is the furthest thing from his mind as he stands cornered and face to face with the First Order's infamous general. Armitage Hux will be the death of him, he's sure of it. The way his features are shadowed under the artificial light of the Supremacy seems to emphasise this thought. The general's usual slicked back hair is mused, wether from the ship jostling under fire or by running a hand through his hair in a stressed tic, Poe is unsure of which.  

The Resistance seems lightyears away, his mother's ring hangs like a noose around his neck as he gazes back at Hux. 

'When had I strayed?’ Is the next thought that comes to him under the weight of calculated eyes. It must have been after General Organa had demoted him due the carnage wrought, it’s the catalyst with all those Rebels who died by his recklessness that haunts his waking moments. Or had he always had these niggling doubts which only grew over time as he witnessed what war did to both sides?. He’s not entirely sure and it’s that knowledge which shakes him more than standing before such a dangerous man.

Now, in his opinion inaction had plagued the Resistance for too long, so much hiding and waiting had slowly rotted the organisation from the inside. Poe’s sure of it. It's what forced him to act back after his fail of an attack- he believed he had to strike the First Order before they strike them. Although, all he had received for his decisions were disappointment and demotions. The galaxy hasn't had peace, hasn’t had order for so long... was it wrong of him to want this conflict to end? Now don't get Poe wrong. He's always held onto hope- it was what held him together. That optimism (and his piloting skills of course) but infiltrating enemy ranks had opened his eyes that the enemy were just people too, just people on the opposite side to him. Finn was a testament to how one’s upbringing doesn’t have to shape an individual, that they can break out from the shackles and indoctrinates forced on them. He has that hope for Hux too, to see if that man can see the errors of the First Order and their ways.  

Poe's unsure when they'd gotten this physically close to one another, the barrage of hostile fire had only ceased maybe minutes ago and Poe absently wonders if perhaps the General himself had been caught up in the damage for the smell of it linger's on Hux's uniform in a faint hint of smoke. Hux’s expression is still taunt, frustration simmering in green eyes as he pins the other in place with a deadly look. Poe doesn’t dare speak, as much as he’d love to make a quip about how scandalous the general is acting by man-handling him like this.  Although, in all honesty Poe was lucky Hux hadn’t shot him dead the moment he’d laid eyes on him. 

He’s not entirely sure why the other didn’t… but there’s something hidden in the Generals eyes now that the fire has quieted down for the moment. Poe wouldn’t be as quick to name it terror, for the other was too indoctrinated to believe that it was an honour to die in battle for the cause to be terrified of death. Poe would pin it more towards ‘a will to live’ than anything else. It’s the most human had seen the general, not that he’d seen the much outside of holograms or projections. So he’s entirely shocked when slender gloved hands slide up Poe's chest only to settle on the centre of his chest. He's sure the other can feel the way his heart rate spiked beneath his gloves, if not during the movement then surely Hux had felt it skip when their eyes had met and Poe had seen the human emotion the callous general seemed to hide at any cost. There's no need for words between them, the memory of a skirmish too fresh for either to speak. Now with the adrenaline fading from their veins, they are reminded of just how mortal they truly are, that either of them could be dead tomorrow.

Months of communicating back and forth over holopad had shown him a side of the general he didn't know existed, he'd seen a glimpse of a man grown under the foot of a snake and seen why that man had shaped into the person he was today. He's not sure if the Resistance knew of his fraternisation... if they did then he's at a loss for why they didn't stop him sooner- Poe had always been too empathetic for his own good. 

He’s brought out of his reminiscing as General Hux's breath fans against his skin, one hand moving from Poe's chest to cradle his jaw. The gentle action settles Poe's thoughts, the roaring of questions and stress which had been eroding him for months if not years.  Poe's not sure when this shift between them formed... to see the man in person it only caused conflicting emotions to tear at his heart. Had he been wrong? He'd worked with the Resistance, killed for them, nearly died for them... was it right for his faith to shake now? With being so close to tipping the outcome of the war. His heart thuds against his rib-cage so hard he knows Hux is bound to feel it now. Hux is so close but the general is holding himself back, Poe can’t see his eyes properly at this proximity but he can tell the other is unsure to take the jump just yet. So Poe let’s himself lean into the other’s touch, the hesitancy of it all… but Hux’s doesn’t close the gap between their lips and it leaves Poe longing for it. He doesn’t push the general, just lets the man control the direction of whatever is happening between them right now.

They don’t question one another about why either of them are here. There’s no need for now they can pretend that there’s not a war raging outside, that any day could be their last. It’s only human to want to connect with another, to feel understood by another person. Ultimately, when they had first talked over holograph neither knew just who the identity of the other was. They didn’t talk about the First Order or about the Resistance, they talked about their future goals, about childhoods and other mundane things like what planets they’d want to visit once peace is restored in the galaxy. Only a few months back did they not hide their identities as seriously, tell tale comments reflected actions which could have only related to themselves. 

It was last night when Poe had let slip that he felt isolated in the Resistance that Hux had responded in kind revealing that he felt alone on the top of the First Order’s rank. “So we seem to be more similar than I first thought, Hugs” Poe had said and other didn’t deny his guess at character. “Maybe we aren’t so star-crossed as it first seemed” 

“That maybe so, Dameron” And the holopad on his desk shifted to reveal the familiar face of General Hux. “Only time will tell if the stars deem us worthy” 

With the reveal now only confirming his suspicions on his ‘pen-pals’ identity, Poe finds himself willing to take the jump to see where this relationship ends. It probably wants the smartest thing to do, but what did Poe have to loose? His role in the Resistance had shattered beyond repair and his current mission had gone completely off plan. What was another wrong in his life? The general had a spark of potential so Poe was willing to give this relationship a go. If it is only destined to end in ashes, then well, death do part and all that. 

The boots of Stormtrooper’s marching towards the direction of their alcove breaks the light atmosphere before them. It brings them both back down to earth, reminds them that right now they are still enemies on opposing sides of the war. So with that incoming reveal General Hux brings out his blaster to aim it towards Dameron’s chest. 

“Halt, Resistance scum!” Hux exclaims for show just as the Storm-troopers enter the hallway. They too bring out their weapons at the sight of their general capturing an enemy spy. “Give yourself up, I have you cornered with no-where to run” 

Poe in turn brings his hands up in the universal gesture for surrender, allowing himself to be shackled by the Stormtroopers who moved to assist their general in capturing him. 

Hux in turn steps back, his usual stoic mask in place as he looks dismissively towards Poe. “Bring him to the cells… I will personally speak to our newest prisoner once the Resistance has finished their pathetic barrage on our ship” 

The stormtroopers grip on his arms is fierce as they muscle him away from the General and Poe let’s himself spare the other a glance as he’s dragged away to some isolated chamber on the Supremacy.

Chapter Text

Poe’s not sure what the time is when he’s brought from his cell to an interrogation room. Like promised, Hux is there to speak with him (although just not in the cell as planned) and it must have been a few planetary rotations later for Hux looks much more together than he did when Poe’d first laid eyes on him. 

The pilot’s not quite locked in place like his interrogation with Kylo Ren, although he is stationed at a metal desk with his wrists cuffed together. Metal cuts into his wrist with every slight movement, not enough to draw blood but enough that he knows it’s gonna leave a mark once it’s removed.  

Armitage Hux is every bit the intimidating general as he stands before him, donned in black with a military cap resting on the crown of his head. There’s resentment in his stance with the way his head is tilted to look down at Poe chained to the table. 

“Your co-operation will be extremely valuable to the First Order” Hux states. There’s tinted glass behind him which is bound to have other members of the Order watching on, it’s something that Poe notes as the general’s words wash over him. “But this information you hold does not make you indispensable, you would do well to remember that if you even think of trying something stupid… is that understood?” 

This version of Hux is lightyears away from the man over holopad, lightyears away from the man who caught him in the hallway and let him live. It’s conflict that fills Poe as he sees the ruthless figure before him, eyes cold as he looks impassively at him as if late night talks met nothing. So the pilot lets his gaze slide past Hux’s head to look at the two-way glass to ignore the way hurt curls in his chest. 

“Understood” he mutters, gaze caught on the glass as if his stare alone could kill those situated behind it.  

The general nods curtly in acknowledgement before slamming his fists on the table between them to regain Poe’s full attention. “Now” Comes the word, lips curling in a sneer as he talks. “You have the choice to either, answer all questions the First Order requires from you, or if you don’t, you can be executed like the scoundrel you are… the choice is yours” Hux leans back, taping the watch on his wrist in emphasise. “You have twenty-four hours to decide” 

It’s a dismissal if ever Poe had heard one, the callous nature of it makes him have the urge to spit right in the smug arrogant face of the man before him. He wants to scream himself hoarse, curse the First Order, Hux, the Resistance and everyone in between. Instead he lets himself simmer in his anger, eyes hard as watches the general, cursing to whatever deity listening that he ever had hope for this man. 

“Twenty-four too long” Poe snarks, the grin on his face just begging for trouble. “Are ‘ya going to keep a camera on me too? Who knows, you might get off on it and get rid of that stick up your ass in the process” 

His head snaps to the side, cheek stinging with the force of the slap delivered after his remark. There’s a metallic taste in his mouth which he spits at the general’s feet for good measure. It makes him smirk in triumph despite the fact he’d bitten his cheek in the impact. 

General Hux is glaring something fierce as he drops his hand, fire burning in his eyes like Poe was nothing more than dirt on the bottom of his polished boot. “Insolence is not tolerated, especially towards higher ranking officers” He makes show of moving his trench-coat to the side, the blaster in his holster glinting as he displays the weapon purposefully. “You’re not indispensable… information is always elsewhere attainable” 

Calculated, it’s the word that describes the man before him. Poe can’t help but wonder what it would have been like to have someone like Hux leading the Resistance but he shakes the traitorous thought before it becomes fully fledged. Regardless, it would do him well to remember that Hux is dangerous, it was borderline suicidal for him to provoke the other by sledging his reputation but Poe just can’t help himself to flirt with death. He wouldn’t be a pilot if he wanted to walk an easy path. 

In front of him, General Hux spares him one final look before he turns and walks back out the interrogation with his coat flaring behind him. Wisely Poe is silent- as close to co-operative as it gets for a man like him. 

It’s not long before storm troops grab hold of his arm, keeping him in place as they remove him from his constraints. They muscle him along, standing either side of him as they march him back to his cell. The array of lights dwindle as they walk further towards the cells. It’s dark growing more visually dingy as white walls shift to muted greys and black. Imposing is what it is, meant to intimidate and confuse those thrown into the cells. Even as Poe tries to map out the walk in his head the Stormtroopers make the slightest zig zag pattern by deviating off the original layout.  

Just as he begins to get the faintest sense of a map, Poe is once more staring at the door to his cell. “I think I can take it from here” He quips, jerking his arm out of a particularly rough trooper’s grip. 

“Watch your tone, Resistance scum” Comes the crackling reply behind the anonymous helmet of a Stormtrooper. 

“At ease AR-2301” Another cuts in, a higher rank it seems who turns to look at the baited trooper. “Let him go, we’ve completed our duty” 

“Affirmative” Comes the reluctant reply. 

Expectantly they wait by Poe’s door until the pilot enters the cell, locking it behind him with a beep and swipe of a key-card. 

The tension is sapped out of him the moment the door blocks him from the outside, sagging as he leans up against the door. Righteous anger fading to helplessness as he finds himself alone aboard the Supremacy. The drive is no longer on his person have being taken from him during the routine search of his figure. Although it is not the drive and his failed mission that he laments but something else entirely. He misses the weight of his mother’s ring around his neck and he curses the Order for taking it from him. It pricks tear in his eyes with the fear that it’s been cast into the rubbish heap or been melted down for the Order to use for supplies. 

“I’m sorry mum” He gasps, trying to reign in his emotions as he raises his fist to the space it would have resided. “I’m so sorry I’ve failed you” 

It’s not just the loss of the ring that cuts him up inside but the failure of the Resistance, his own dwindling hope and shame that he’d be the one to defect to a place his parents had fought against- people his mother died facing. It’s a jarring clarity that comes to him in the solitude of his cell, that this is the turning point he could never have envisioned in his wildest dreams.  

It’s late at night when Poe’s awoken suddenly at the sound of someone entering his cell. He had no idea when he’d even first fallen asleep but years of conflict makes him alert as he instinctively drops his hand to his holster in retaliation. His fingers meet nothing but air as he drowsily whips his head towards the intruder. 

Cautious relief makes him un-tense ever so slightly, understandable with just who had entered. For having an opposing general sneak into your room in the middle of the night would make any sane person paranoid. The man had been nothing short of hostile since their first meeting aboard the ship and it’s something the pilot remembers as he looks at the other. 

“Here to finish me off, Hugs?” Comes the bravado from his lips. 

Armitage Hux says nothing as he moves to stand by Poe’s bedside. “Think rationally, Dameron” He says completely ignoring the his previous jibe. “The firing squad is the cowards way out, there’s not much choice left for you” 

‘What a charming greeting, people skills are not the Order’s forte’ Poe thinks as he takes in the other’s words and there’s a bitter curl to his lips as he goes to reply with a scathing response. “And defecting isn’t?” 

Despite moving to sit at the edge of Poe’s bunk, frustration cracks the calm mask the general wears and contradicts the peace-offering his movement signifies. “Kriff, Dameron you truly are dense” Hux snarls but then his shoulders drop as he exhales audibly. “Can’t you see that I can protect you” 

It’s not what Poe expected at all, sure, they’d talked over holopad before but it didn't mean that when push comes to shove that Hux would put himself on the line for him. The potential slither of a mutually shared comradely between them makes Poe more open to the other’s advice. It might be stupid of him to do so, it was only bound to bite him in ass when his usefulness dies out. 

“What makes you say that?” At the other’s look Poe elaborates further. “That you can protect me, I mean” 

“My rank will be able to allow me to counter and sway the other officer’s views. See, I don’t speak highly of just any recruits, so if I do about you… well, others are bound to know the significance” 

Poe doesn’t dare to let hope flare in his chest but it does anyway and he’s sure his optimism will be his downfall as he caught the gaze of Hux. “They are bound to know i’m from the Resistance, who’s to say i’m not going to be targeted by some hate group?” Poe questions. 

Hux has the audacity to laugh at his comment. “You think something like that would be tolerable in the First Order?” The general asked rhetorically, amusement clear in his eyes. “This isn’t your feral Resistance, Dameron, there are consequences for breaching code of conduct” 

Silence wells between them, both lost in their own respective thoughts. This Hux before him is not the man he had spoken to over holopad, he’s a snidely individual who cares more for rules than people’s lives. This version of Hux is the type of man had first believed the man to be but perhaps now he was showing his true colours? Poe’s not sure.  The other’s words; ‘Can’t you see that I can protect you’ is a stark contrast to the detached way Hux regarded him in public. In all honesty, he doesn’t know if this man is even human, perhaps he truly was shaped into the unfeeling monster others in the Resistance believed him to be. 

Poe allows himself to inhale before speaking up. “About yesterday-”

“There’s nothing to say” Hux cuts in and there’s nothing on his face to clue Poe on to his thoughts. It’s a clear warning in itself that Poe should let it be but when had he stood down from something just because it’s difficult? 

“How can you say that?” Poe demands, sitting up as he rounds on the other with an indignation. “Hux you could have shot me but you didn’t, hell, I thought you were going to kiss me! That in itself is something to be acknowledged” 

“It’s treasonous is what it is!” Hux exclaims and there’s an hysterical red hue to his skin as he stares hard at Poe. “I shouldn’t have done it, heat of the moment- human weakness and all that. You would do well to just forget about it and for once in your life Dameron, just shut up” Hux rises the action abrupt in the stillness around them, his back is to Poe as he speaks next. “I hope you will take on my words, it would be a shame to lose such potential to our cause” 

“You’re all about the cause aren’t you?” Poe snaps. “Nothing else matters to you, it’s no wonder you’re lonely at the top…” he caught himself, words fizzling before they turned into fully cutting barbs. 

The general’s back is still turned to him, tension lining the other’s shoulders the only sign he was listening. “At least I am still at the top” Hux retorts evenly and without looking back shows himself out the room with the hiss of the door closing behind him. 

Poe’s knuckles sting as he impulsively punches it at the wall closest to him, it’s the only thing he allows himself to focus on besides the anger that skews his vision red. How dare he? How dare Hux stoop that low to bring up Poe’s demotion from commander. ‘Isn’t that something you’d do if the situation was reversed?’ A snide voice whispers in the back of his mind. He ignores it, instead focuses on the red of forming bruises on his hand. 

Even though this version of the general makes every part of his being recoil he knows he’d be stupid not to heed the other’s advice, to decline his shaky offer. It’s the thought that haunts him as Poe lays down on his cell’s bunk and tries to sleep to no avail. 

The next morning when Poe awakens he is blissfully alone. It wouldn’t be until that afternoon that he’d be brought forward to announce his decision. Now, Poe wants to be the heroic man who sacrifices himself for the greater good but he wants to live, kriff, he wants to live so badly. Between the firing squad and defecting Poe has no choice but to chose the other side if he wants to live… it’s shameful, he’s betraying everyone he knew. Although, perhaps he could push influence from the inside, shift the way the Order works by whispering suggestions into Hux’s ear.  It’s a possibility, especially with the way Hux is displaying his personal loyalty towards Poe with the olive-branch of protection. It wouldn’t hurt to try, even if the calculated general has a trick up his sleeve. For who knows, maybe once he’s out and flying again perhaps he’ll come to like the arrangement forced upon him.

As expected there’s a knocking at his cell door around the afternoon as faceless Stormtrooper’s enter and rouse him from his lounging. His head is raised defiantly as he’s paraded past troops of the First Order, whispers emerging as they caught sight of him. 

“A rebel?”

“Why hadn’t he been shot yet?”

“I think that’s Poe Dameron! Why is he here?”

“The Resistance? Scoundrels the lot of them!”

“Have they caught a spy?”

“Is that Dameron? The best Resistance pilot?”

“It must be the pilot, the features match the propaganda posters nearly exact”

“I heard he and the general had been in a fist fight, it’s the reason General Hux hasn’t been spotted lately…” 

The sounds of talkative troops is drowned out as Poe is shoved into the interrogation room, the hiss of a door blocking all sound and access for the time being. General Hux of the First Order is waiting for him, hard and ruthless like an iron fist as Poe is shackled in place. Hux’s donned in his high-ranking garb, pins glinting under the harsh artificial light as he turns his attention down at Poe sitting chained to the interrogation table. 

“Your twenty-four hours is up” he states matter of fact. “Have you settled on your choice? 

He allows himself to look down, yellow and purple stands out on one of his knuckles and he focuses on it as he thinks. It reminds him of the previous night, of veiled warnings and of the potential camaraderie he could strike with the general before him. More importantly, he focuses on how he can regain his reputation, allow himself to restore peace to the galaxy through action. “I know my decision” Poe speaks up in the awaiting pause, raising his head to catch Hux’s eye. “I will answer your questions” 

Hux’s stoic mask slips as his lips twitch upwards in the faintest of smiles, it’s only the thing that clues Poe in that Hux may be glad he heeded his advice. “Welcome to the First Order, your knowledge will aid our future endeavours greatly” 

Chapter Text

Poe’s first day as an unofficial member of the First Order started not quite as he expected. 

He’d been brought to his new quarters, a small room that was half the size of his bunk back at the Resistance. Apparently the Order usually grouped recruits together, especially the new recruitments so Poe’s a little surprised to find himself escorted from his cell to his own personal quarters. Perhaps they were wary that he’d do something? Perhaps that he’d attempt to take out as many new recruits as possible. Poe’s not sure…

His room was secluded away at the very end of the third officer deck and the lone status made him pause but not for long when he allowed himself to look at it’s interior. It was small yet cozy with all the amenities as well as an adjoining ‘fresher. With a glance he could spot more clothes in the closet: flight suits, a dress uniform, trainers, underwear- just standard First Order dress. 

“You are to report to the cargo bay 0600 sharp” Is the words from the faceless trooper who spoke to him before he was once more left to his own devices. 

It was the last thing anyone had said to him for hours, so when he rose the next day at 0500 he unsurely made his way towards where he thought the cargo bay was situated. With no-one there to escort him the ex-resistance pilot was nearly late to his location and he must have had mere minutes to spare as the other troops he’d been paired with were already standing in small groups. 

None paid him any mind. 

No sooner does a man walk towards the group gathered, chrome black armour reflecting as he makes his way across the room. Importance is the notion that struck Poe as the recruits around him stood up straighter at the man’s approach. 

The man stands tall before them, face hidden behind a helmet. “For those who do not know me, I am Lieutenant Poldin LeHuse” the man spoke. “I will be tasked with seeing you re-organised into the First Order’s aerial defence force on the Supremacy” 

Vaguely Poe thinks of Starkiller, it must have been where the defence force was originally from. He’d been roped into their ranks and they were suspicious of him and why wouldn’t they be? He was the man who took down Starkiller in the first place. It’s a sobering thought- he’s been thrown into the viper’s pit. 

“Simulations will not be needed with this group seeing as you all have experience flying different space-crafts” The Lieutenant paused. “Instead you will be completing drills in TIE fighters in order to determine just how good you are… who knows, whoever scores the highest could be moved up into the Special TIE forces”

With the glance Poe spares towards his squad mates, he knows that it will be a dogfight to reach that goal- it’s clear with the hungry glints in their eyes. Now, Poe himself was not one to shy away from a challenge… so this chance to leapfrog these recruits is a offer he just can’t resist. 

LeHuse began to walk forwards and the squadron followed his lead from behind. “The drills will begin today” he states, footsteps echoing as he walks. “You are to enter a TIE and await further instructions once out in space” 

Entering the cargo bay Poe’s eyes are drawn immediately to the row of TIE fighters LeHuse was leading them towards. It was strange to see the TIE fighters up close, for when he was with the resistance he’d ignored the ships for their dark origins but now with becoming mixed up with the First Order he could justify his interest in the crafts. It was old but it didn’t mean that the ship still wasn’t worthy of his attention. 

He’s snapped out of his admiration when the squad members before him began to climb into the cockpit of the nearest TIEs. He lets his hand trail across the dark chrome of the ship, glancing over the duel engines as he passes. Without pausing he climbs in to the open cockpit of the TIE. As he slides into the dark leather of the single pilot seating he notes that the console was different to that of the X-wing. It was more clunky than what he was used too but ships always had similar functions no matter what the design and after only a little bit of thought on his part Poe started the ignition. 

The rumbling of the craft coming to life beneath his hands makes him giddy in a way he hadn’t felt for weeks. All apprehension leeching away with the thought of being able to fly unheeded in the empty space near the Supremacy. The TIE fighter is far different in the air from the X-Wings he’d grown up flying but Poe Dameron was a man who could fly anything. It’s the thought he focus on as he speeds through the expanse of space with TIE fighter ships hot on his tail. 

Mock dogfights had been the main tests for the aerial defence force, it’s how Poe finds himself dodging the various ships that had ganged up on him as soon as the drill started. They want to box him in, it’s clear in the rigid way the rest of the squadron aligned with one another. It is the way they follow him with ease that clues Poe in that the other’s in his squadron had done this countless times before when protecting Starkiller. They were a unit- and he was the outsider they wanted to break in. 

He vaguely misses the presence of BB8, instead there is a First Order droid which beeps in binary every so often. It seems angry to have been paired with him and if Poe’s honest the feeling is mutual. His craft dips and over his coms he hears the surprised exclamation over the group coms at his move. There’s the tightest squeeze of space between the other shuttles and Poe had forced his craft into the space with seemingly no regard.  

Other TIEs supported the assault from the outside trying to re-box him in, although, Poe’s lone vessel wove in and out of the targeting range of the fighters- expertly evading getting clipped on more than one occasion. It was a daring display of skill and confidence and vaguely Poe knows it would look impressive from the bridge of the ship. 

The sound of beeping coming from the console breaks Poe’s musing and he forces himself to focus back on the situation at hand. Eyes dropping to the flashing on the display screen he spies warnings flashing about being locked onto by an enemy ship. There’s a TIE hot on his tail, the ship breaking formation to chase him down. In a bid to be rid of the other, Poe pulls his ship sharply to the side but the TIE follows his change without much hassle. 

They’ve been slowed momentarily with the shift in direction but their sights and guns are still locked on his ship. It makes curses fall from Poe’s lips particularity when the console beeps to let him know that if this was not a drill that the TIE would have critically damaged his ship. Red fills his vision as the craft lights up with an array of alarms, the TIE chasing him down has won. The celebratory cheers of his squadron members fills the coms and Poe refrains from swearing up a storm. 

It’s a pattern that continues for weeks, as Poe and the old Starkiller aerial defence force run through drills with Lieutenant LeHuse speaking in their ears reminding them of just what they should be fighting for. As Poe’s TIE flies through the expanse of space, nearly a month after first being captured by the First Order he finds himself finally used to the bulky TIE ships. It makes a grin tug at his lips as he goes into a barrel roll- dropping sharply as a few of his squadron members decide to pick him off. 

He lets himself dream for a moment that Hux is watching the formation from the bridge. He hadn’t seen the general for weeks after that fateful first meeting not even a glimpse of familiar red hair. The troops he mingled with left him alone, nothing more than mistrustful glances thrown his way when he found himself with them outside of training. It made him homesick for the company of others, for the familiarity of the Resistance base. 

Although it seemed the Force or whatever other kind of otherworldly energy had listened to his thoughts. For when Poe landed one afternoon after evading his squad’s fire during the drills, he had a fellow pilot call to him.

“That was good flying back there” a voice called. 

Turning Poe caught sight of a human male, he’d just taken his helmet off so his blond hair was messy as he approached. 

“Thanks” Poe says warily. “You weren’t so bad yourself” He hardly has to hides his surprise when the man extends a palm towards him. 

 “Marcelv Reamig” the newcomer says. 

The pilot clasps the other’s outstretched hand in greeting. “Poe Dameron” 

Marcelv smiles faintly. “I thought you looked familiar” 

“I get that a lot” Poe jokes letting go of the other’s hand. 

Marcelv laughs, gesturing Poe to following him with a tilt of his head. He leads Poe towards a woman with tanned skin and light brown hair, she’s tall- imposing, as she turns her eye towards them. “This is my companion, Katali Easwych” Macelv introduces. 

“So this is the pilot you talked so much about? It was an impressive show you both put on out there” Katali says, familiarity in the way she speaks to the other pilot. “I must admit he’s handsome… he’s got a lot going for him now that he almost beat your record” 

“Don't remind me” Macelv sighed, folding his arms across his chest at the other’s words. 

Poe let’s a charming grin tug as his lips as he turns to the newly introduced woman bringing Katali’s gloved palm to his lips. “A pleasure to meet you” he murmurs against her palm. 

Her head is thrown back in a laugh and Poe drops her hand as he steps back out from her space. “I like him” Katali states and there’s a teasing edge to her next words. “Interesting to see you are the heartthrob the holo-net made you out to be” 

“You flatter me” Poe says. “I’m told i’m impulsive, arrogant and a difficult man to deal with” 

“What pilot isn’t?” There’s the barest hint of fondness as Katali glances at Marcelv.  “The best pilots always are I’ve found” 

Marcelv scoffs. “Speak for yourself… I wouldn’t say i’m a difficult man to deal with”

“Who said it had to be a man?” 

The trio are broken from their laughter as silences sudden falls over the troops gathered. It’s not hard to figure out why the attention of the troops is turned towards the entrance of the room. Lieutenant Poldin LeHuse enters the room, confidence in his stride and the pilots gathered snap to attention all eyes on their commanding officer. 

“Well done troops, more so for some of you then all” The Lieutenant begins. “I was intrigued by the result of today’s mock fights, particularly so with the newest recruit’s involvement” There’s an lull in his words and the Lieutenant’s eyes scan the room only to land on Poe. “Poe Dameron” He states. “I request your presence to meet me immediately after the end of training” 

“Yes sir” Poe acknowledges keeping his eyes forward even though the weight of the combined aerial defence force’s gaze feels crushing. 

LeHuse nods. “I look forward to team drills tomorrow at 06:00 sharp… dismissed” 

The murmuring of the gathered squadron resumes and at Poe’s side Marcelv and Katali are giving him thoughtful looks. 

“I doubt you’re in trouble… you’re the one who beat my record for the fastest flying in the squadron after all” Marcelv pipes up in the silence that’s befallen the trio. “If anything, Lieutenant LeHuse only brings people to speak privately if they have beat something big or if they’ve breached conduct” 

Poe sighs a wry grin tugging at his lips regardless. “Let’s hope it’s the former than the latter”

Casting his attention away from his newly formed companions Poe spies Poldin LeHuse waiting from him near the exit of the cargo-bay. Nodding in farewell, Poe nearly jogs away from them to make his way towards his superior officer. 

“Lieutenant” Poe says snapping to attention, arm thrown up in a hasty salute. 

“At ease” LeHuse says, turning a cool gaze towards the pilot. “An interesting approach to your drills today” 

“I felt daring, sir” 

Poldin LeHuse lets out the barest of laughs. “If daring is your approach to beating the record then you’ve won by a landslide, Dameron, so congratulations on the potential for climbing the ranks” 

“Thank you, sir” Poe says, fighting the smug expression from his face. 

It must still show through if LeHuse’s expression is anything to go by. “There is much you need to learn about flying First Order ships but for a new recruit you’re flying is more than adequate” There’s a serious air to the lieutenant as he pauses. “Although a word of advice, Dameron, if you wish to climb the ranks of the special forces you will need to drop your attitude… the officers there will not be lenient like they have been with you here” 

Poe nods, mulling over Poldin LeHuse’s words. “Thank you sir, I will take your advice to heart” 

His superior nods. “Dismissed, Dameron”

It seems that he does have allies in the First Order with LeHuse’s guidance and his fellow pilots Marcelv Reamig and Katali Easwych having his back, maybe defecting wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.