"Finn!" Since he's getting a hug vibe off Finn anyway--and Poe's always been a huggy guy himself--he takes the opportunity and just goes for it. Not too different from the first time he saw Finn after Jakku, though mercifully this time he's down to just his jumpsuit so there isn't a life support control box bruising both their sternums. He hugs Finn hard enough to knock the wind out of himself and set the bruises on his chest aching, and he doesn't care.
It's nice to have someone--to have a friend, he reminds himself firmly--to come home to. It's different when they're not one of your pilots.
"Couldn't be better, other than I'm so hungry I could eat a rathtar with no salt. Might just eat you if you don't get me to the mess quick."
Of course it's different! Poe's pilots get to be with him on the mission, and everyone back at base has to deal with remote reports. The General had called him in to observe when the dogfight started, and he'd foud it exciting in a very different way than being in the middle of the action. He's not sure it's to his taste, but it was exciting nonetheless.
He's so relieved at the hug that he hugs right back. It just feels good to be able to express that about someone he cares about, and besides, he sees other people doing it all the time so he's less self-conscious about it than he would be around the First Order, who rarely make any kind of physical contact at all.
Even if it does give him a front-row seat to cockpit smell. Well, it's not like Finn smelled any better after his escape from Jakku.
"Be surprised if they aren't cooking something special for you already. Come on." He releases the hug but grabs Poe's hand to tug him along to the mess hall. "We got your transmission of the fight, but how's your ship holding up?"
Poe's maybe a little startled when Finn grabs his hand, but he rolls with it, and it's nice. Not overthinking this, just enjoying the fact that someone's happy he's home. And hasn't banished him to the showers first, because he's pretty sure he'll starve to death before he's even managed to unmangle his hair.
"If they are, they better be making plenty of it. The rest of my squadron's gotta be there already, sucking up all the food." Since none of them had to go to medical first. Good going, Poe. He grimaces. "My X-wing's going to need some serious time with the techs. I cracked the engine housing and shattered three of the fuel lines. That's why it took us so long to get back."
Since his squadron was full of stubborn people who hadn't been willing to go on ahead of him.
"They're either going to have to find me a spare bird, or I'm going to be grounded for a while. I think all the X-wings are assigned, but maybe they got an old A-wing hanging around. I could do something good with that."
Finn laughs at the mental image of the squadron somehow managing to eat all the food. "You already got debriefed, right? So you can take as long as you want eating. Long enough for a fresh batch, I bet." Like virtually everyone else on base, Finn tended to shovel food into his mouth, but when he first realized that he could take his time as long as he was off duty--well, it still takes some getting used to.
He nods soberly as Poe discusses his ship. Finn remembers another ship lost on Jakku; even for their best pilot they can't just produce them out of thin air. "Which would you want? An old, uh, bird? Or to have some ground time?" If he were grounded, they could hang out some more, but it's obvious Poe would rather be in the air. That's just who he is.
"First thing," Poe says. "Before I went to medical." Since all he'd had were bruises, that hadn't been a rush. "True. Though I want to hit the showers and my bunk too." Showers before he passes out, hopefully. He's fallen asleep actually in the showers before, and that isn't something he wants to repeat.
It's a good question. Poe thinks about it; he's not going to wonder if there's something behind it. He knows Finn probably would like to have a friend around more often, so it makes sense. "Honestly? I'd like some down time. Probably need it. Just depends if they can spare me." If they need pilots more than anything else, he'd fly a bucket with wings on it if necessary.
Finn tactfully doesn't mention that showers would be an excellent idea, but Poe probably already knows that anyway. "I'll make sure you get there," he promises. If Poe's too tired to shower, well, there's always cold water.
Finn's expression lights up at that. Yeah, Poe's had a rough few weeks and hasn't had any downtime, and even if it's not real leave at least he won't have to be on high alert anymore. He squeezes Poe's hand. "You probably could use a break. Back up there as soon as your ship's fixed, but you look like a man who hasn't had enough sleep."
"You're the best friend a guy could have," Poe says, laughing.
(Hey, what about me?) BB-8 chirps.
"You are too," Poe assures him. "When we're not talking about showers and bed."
He probably shouldn't be enjoying Finn hanging onto his hand this much. He does not care. Instead he gives Finn's hand a squeeze back. "I look that bad, huh? Guess I'd really better get some bunk time."
They get to the mess at that point. The rest of Black Squadron is already there. Poe notices Jess and Kare looking at them and nudging each other. He grinds, shrugs one shoulder. It's not like that; he's told them several times. But the squadrons really taken a shine to Finn anyway, which is all for the good.
"I've seen you look worse," Finn admits; Poe had looked worse when they'd first met, but then, he's just tired and bruised right now instead of actually tortured. The point is, he's seen Poe look better, too.
Finn's starting to recognize the other pilots a little, even if the uniforms are a dead giveaway. He lets go of Poe's hand to wave at them and heads over to pile up a tray for each of them. There is as always plenty of food, much of it hot and all of it smelling good. "You go sit down. I'll bring it over to you."
"There we go." It's kind of comforting. He'd be worried if he looked as shitty now as he had after Finn dragged him out of Kylo Ren's tender care.
Poe hesitates, but he's too tired and hungry to protest. He plops down across from Kare and Jess, making sure there's a seat between him and the next pilot that Finn can take.
Kare leans forward and stage whispers, "We saw that." Jess nods in agreement.
Poe rolls his eyes. "Knock it off, you two. He doesn't mean anything by it."
"Do we need to tell him to stop playing with your heart?" Jess asks, voice mock serious.
"Only if you feel like degreasing power couplings for the rest of your life."
The girls are still laughing about that when Finn comes over.
Of course Poe's friends are laughing - he's that kind of guy. Finn sees nothing strange about that. So he plunks down Poe's tray as well as his own and takes his seat. It does make him a little nervous - he hasn't eaten with the other pilots before - but he's seen them around enough to recognize their faces. So he gives them a grin and a nod.
"Nice job on the mission. It's all anyone could talk about back here."
(Hey! You should ask Jess what she was just talking about!) BB-8 implores, but the only part Finn gets is hey. "You too, BB-8. I know you helped." Which gets some snickers, but mostly the other pilots seem to be covertly checking him out as much as he's assessing them.
Poe doesn't say anything to BB-8, but that's only because he's already stuffed half a piece of bread in his mouth. Instead he shoots the droid a mock-glare and waggles his fork at him, trying to convey I hear you like degreasing power couplings too, wise guy.
It's his own fault, really. The moment pilots know there's teasing to be done, they're merciless. And BB-8 hangs with the best of them.
Since Poe's too occupied feeding his face to even be a good enough friend to talk, Kare, Jess, and Iolo take over. All of them have at least the basic mercy to limit themselves to teasing instead of making things really embarrassing. Or maybe they just don't want to see him choke on his rations.
"Thanks," Jess says to Finn. "We got more than we bargained for and hit them with more than they could handle."
Finn eats not quite as quickly, but the food somehow manages to disappear just as fast. He's used to having minimal time at meals, and cramming the only social interaction they really had into the same space.
"It's damn impressive." Especially if the only casualty is Poe's fuselage (or whatever he said it was that got damaged, it kinda flew over his head). "Bet you all came here first instead of the showers so you could scare everyone else away from the food, though."
Poe snickers around a mouthful of some kind of green protein cube, which tastes surprisingly good--not that he cares at this point. The food could taste as bad as he smells and he'd still be stuffing it into his mouth as fast as possible.
But Kare grins wickedly. "Look at that, Commander, he's already figuring out all our tricks."
Poe swallows hastily, clears his mouth out with a quick wash of water. "To be clear the stink gambit was Iolo's idea, not mine."
Iolo laughs. "Dameron there said I was being too rude, you know that? Until the first time he missed a meal because he spent too much time washing his hair."
Poe rolls his eyes. "Shorter rations here than we had in the Republic navy."
Where is all that food going? Between Finn and Poe they're chowing enough to fill an empty leg. Then again, it's both filling and tasty, so who's to complain?
Finn laughs along at the tale. Is it true? Maybe, maybe not. "You call this short rations? One time we were doing a sim on Raxus II and we had to split a single Tauntaun with six other fireteams." He shudders. "This smell ain't nothing compared to that."
"This? This is a feast," Iolo says. "I guess what's left of the Republic likes us now."
Kare snorts. Poe can't quite find it in himself to laugh. He'd been angry at the government, knowing about the traitors within, knowing that they were trying to ignore the First Order instead of do anything about it--and look where it had gotten all of them. But he's not one to get on his people for showing the sort of black humor that most soldiers have to use now and then just to survive.
"I don't think I've ever been hungry enough to eat a tauntaun," Jess says. "Lucky me."
"You weren't with us on Nimaha," Poe says. "Pinned down for two weeks. Had to boil these roots we found in a nearby swamp, and they uh. Went right through you. If you know what I mean."
"That was right before you got on the squadron," Kare told Jess. "Very lucky you."
Poe snorts and goes back to shoveling the food in. Now that he's not quite so ravenous, he's starting to feel warmly sleep again, and he lists a little bit to lean against Finn's shoulder. Kare smirks, and he shoots her a covert glare.
Finn's expression hardens for a moment. It shouldn't have taken firing the Starkiller to do that. "I guess most people don't believe in a threat they don't see face-to-face. Glad someone's here to fight against them."
Which...he's glad to count himself among them, now. He'd wanted to run away, had been ready to do just that and then they took Rey. And now? He's still scared of them, sometimes, and it affects his sleep, but doing something is better than doing nothing.
But his rising tension lowers as Poe lists against him. Poe's got great reason to know that it's safe here, and if he feels safe, Finn can feel safe. "Hey, none of that till after you shower, unless you want to be washing your sheets, too."
Then he raises his voice to get back into the conversation. "Roots? Do those even count as food? Or is Nimaha one of those places with the little poison rats that'll strangle you if you try to eat them?" Scavenging protocol is to go for processed food first, then meat, then plants; if Poe was eating roots, the meat should have been impossible to eat, right?
Kare snickers when Finn mentions washing sheets, nudging Jess with her elbow. Jess slaps her arm, grinning. At least they don't say anything. Thank the Force, Poe thinks. He really needs to talk to them about... about what? 'Stop being friendly enough with your commanding officer that you're not afraid to tease him?'
Yeah, real winning argument there.
"'m just leaning," he mumbles around a full mouth. But he is getting awful sleepy.
Kare grimaces. "Too much mercury in the wildlife. Kivann--you remember him, right, Iolo? Koreddin. He was fine. The rest of us wouldn't have been. I would have rather dealt with poison rats."
"Lucky Kivann." He's finally slowing down, with maybe a tenth of the food on his plate left. He'll finish it, but he's willing to take a little more time--provided Poe doesn't actually fall asleep on him. The others don't look quite as exhausted, but then, they weren't wounded either. It can take something out of you.
"D'you keep emergency rations on you?" He taps his belt; three days of iron rations is a good habit to have and the sole reason he didn't die on Jakku. "Not that they're anything like real food. But they can keep you going in a pinch."
"Standard ration pack goes out with every X-wing," Poe offers. He stifles a yawn. He's definitely the tired one at the table. It's probably because he had less sleep going in to the mission. Glad his people have been getting more rest, though. Well, he can catch up if he's going to be grounded for a little while.
"Yeah, three days worth. Runs out faster than you think," Kare says.
"Especially if some swamp viper eats all yours," Iolo mutters.
Poe swallows another mouthful. "Also a pretty decent first aid kit," he adds, even if it's slightly off topic. "Close to field medic level."
"So we have the equipment to help out your ground pounders if you really get in a pinch," Kare finishes.
"A-wing's better for that than an X-wing, though," Poe says. He starts scraping his plate. He's contemplating licking it, but he's supposed to have some kind of dignity left. "Go in fast and low, and they can be stealthed. Fun times."
Finn nods, glad they have that much in common with what he's used to. "Form up on the nearest ship if we get stranded. Got it." Makes sense to him; medkits and rations aside, ships are more likely to have working comms gear to call for evac.
That's the second time Poe's mentioned an A-wing. "You have one of those before you got an X-wing? Or do you just know everything that has wings?" Probably a little of both, he predicts.
Poe's leaning is getting worse, though, so Finn quickly finishes his plate. "All right, Poe, we better get going before you fall asleep at the table. Catch the rest of you later?" He hopes they'll say yes. They seem friendly enough, and they're clearly very fond of their Leader.
"Poe was hatched knowing how to fly everything," Kare says.
Poe laughs. "I learned to fly on an A-wing. My mom owned one after she retired. Only dummy armaments on it, but it was still fast as hell and that was all that mattered." It still hurts a little to think about his mother being gone, but the good times outweigh that grief by a lot.
"Yeah, get him to bed, Finn," Jess says, all wide-eyed and innocent, and Poe doesn't buy it for one second. He knows Jess better than that.
"Shower first," he mumbles. The idea of rubbing his stink all over fresh sheets seems almost blasphemous.
"Come back after you've dumbed that sad sack of bantha shit on the garbage heap," Kare says cheerfully. "If we're not here, we're in the showers and we'll be back."
Finn makes an "ah" of understanding. If his mom taught him to fly at a young age, that would explain...basically everything. "She was a Rebel, wasn't she? Back in the War." Because there is no way Poe Dameron came from an Imperial background, and traders don't fly A-wings. Not when he ended up with General Organa.
But you ended up with General Organa, a small voice in his mind points out. Finn silently reminded the small voice that he doesn't quite fit in, even if the pilots are treating him like ofne of their own. He sees the covert glances people give him, and how much of that is because of the rumors and how much of that is because of the way he acts is difficult to tell. But even with the side-eyeing, it's still infinitely better than what he'd come from.
"Shower, toss him on the bed like a sack of garbage, meet you all back here. Got it. C'mon, BB-8, you better come with me so I don't get lost." Okay, he's not going to get lost (Poe's room isn't hard to find), but the little droid is his friend too. He waves to the others as the three of them head out.
"Yeah. She worked for the General before she even was the General. Flew with her brother, too." Hasn't he told Finn this before? Maybe not. He doesn't keep it secret, but it's also not the first thing anyone learns about him. And she'd been one of the best pilots out there, without having some kind of mystical power to back her up. He's proud of that too, always.
"'m not a sack of garbage," he mumbles as he pries himself out of his seat. Someone's turned up the gravity on this moon, he's sure of it. Well, doesn't hurt to sling an arm around Finn's shoulders and lean on him a bit, just to steady himself. Totally benign.
Stop looking at him like that, Kare. He can smell the trouble brewing, just looking at her grin. Sometimes he wonders if he'd be better off if he could just force choke people like Darth Vader and put the fear of Poe into them. (No he doesn't. Ever.)
"Showers first," he says, as they exit the mess. Showers aren't private even for commanders; it's just not efficient. And once they're there, it's a relief to get his flight suit unzipped, revealing the tight black t-shirt beneath. He leans against the wall of the locker room outside the showers to start unlacing his boots.
(You should have stopped at your room first.) BB-8 points out.
Finn whistles appreciatively. "Right in the middle of it. Did you get a lot of stories growing up?" He's aware that his version of the fall of the Empire is...probaby told very differently than the version they tell here.
Once they get to the showers, Finn bats around the idea of a quick sonic shower himself (no water on his back for another week, doctor's orders) but decides to hold off until later. Poe might, despite his promise, need a hand afterwards to get to his bunk.
He looks dubious at Poe's pronouncement, though. "Are you allowed to be in the hallways with only a towel? Cause I can run and get you a set of scrubs or something."
(Or your pajamas! I could show him where those are!) BB-8 adds helpfully.
Later, he promises. He'll talk about mom and dad and the few stories they did tell him later. He doesn't have a sharp enough brain right now to do any of them justice, and he doesn't have that many. His parents had always been very close-mouthed about what they did, though he understands it now. It's one thing to be shooting drek with your fellow pilots, another entirely to tell them to an impressionable kid who is still convinced war is glorious.
He finishes untangling his boot laces and toes his boots off while he's pulling his shirt over his head. His bruised muscles protest, and he ignores them. "It's not that long of a walk back to my room."
(No he's not,) BB-8 offers helpfully.
"That's not true," Poe says. "I'm not allowed to streak back to my room. And that was just the one time when Kare got us all drunk."
(Pajamas, Poe,) BB-8 insists.
Poe flaps a hand. "If you guys are that concerned... do whatever you want. I don't care as long as I'm not wearing this stuff any more." The shirt goes down the laundry shirt, trailing almost visible lines of stink. He throws the boots in after it--they get cleaned too--and starts pulling off the rest of his flight suit.
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It's nice to have someone--to have a friend, he reminds himself firmly--to come home to. It's different when they're not one of your pilots.
"Couldn't be better, other than I'm so hungry I could eat a rathtar with no salt. Might just eat you if you don't get me to the mess quick."
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He's so relieved at the hug that he hugs right back. It just feels good to be able to express that about someone he cares about, and besides, he sees other people doing it all the time so he's less self-conscious about it than he would be around the First Order, who rarely make any kind of physical contact at all.
Even if it does give him a front-row seat to cockpit smell. Well, it's not like Finn smelled any better after his escape from Jakku.
"Be surprised if they aren't cooking something special for you already. Come on." He releases the hug but grabs Poe's hand to tug him along to the mess hall. "We got your transmission of the fight, but how's your ship holding up?"
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"If they are, they better be making plenty of it. The rest of my squadron's gotta be there already, sucking up all the food." Since none of them had to go to medical first. Good going, Poe. He grimaces. "My X-wing's going to need some serious time with the techs. I cracked the engine housing and shattered three of the fuel lines. That's why it took us so long to get back."
Since his squadron was full of stubborn people who hadn't been willing to go on ahead of him.
"They're either going to have to find me a spare bird, or I'm going to be grounded for a while. I think all the X-wings are assigned, but maybe they got an old A-wing hanging around. I could do something good with that."
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He nods soberly as Poe discusses his ship. Finn remembers another ship lost on Jakku; even for their best pilot they can't just produce them out of thin air. "Which would you want? An old, uh, bird? Or to have some ground time?" If he were grounded, they could hang out some more, but it's obvious Poe would rather be in the air. That's just who he is.
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It's a good question. Poe thinks about it; he's not going to wonder if there's something behind it. He knows Finn probably would like to have a friend around more often, so it makes sense. "Honestly? I'd like some down time. Probably need it. Just depends if they can spare me." If they need pilots more than anything else, he'd fly a bucket with wings on it if necessary.
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Finn's expression lights up at that. Yeah, Poe's had a rough few weeks and hasn't had any downtime, and even if it's not real leave at least he won't have to be on high alert anymore. He squeezes Poe's hand. "You probably could use a break. Back up there as soon as your ship's fixed, but you look like a man who hasn't had enough sleep."
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(Hey, what about me?) BB-8 chirps.
"You are too," Poe assures him. "When we're not talking about showers and bed."
He probably shouldn't be enjoying Finn hanging onto his hand this much. He does not care. Instead he gives Finn's hand a squeeze back. "I look that bad, huh? Guess I'd really better get some bunk time."
They get to the mess at that point. The rest of Black Squadron is already there. Poe notices Jess and Kare looking at them and nudging each other. He grinds, shrugs one shoulder. It's not like that; he's told them several times. But the squadrons really taken a shine to Finn anyway, which is all for the good.
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Finn's starting to recognize the other pilots a little, even if the uniforms are a dead giveaway. He lets go of Poe's hand to wave at them and heads over to pile up a tray for each of them. There is as always plenty of food, much of it hot and all of it smelling good. "You go sit down. I'll bring it over to you."
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Poe hesitates, but he's too tired and hungry to protest. He plops down across from Kare and Jess, making sure there's a seat between him and the next pilot that Finn can take.
Kare leans forward and stage whispers, "We saw that." Jess nods in agreement.
Poe rolls his eyes. "Knock it off, you two. He doesn't mean anything by it."
"Do we need to tell him to stop playing with your heart?" Jess asks, voice mock serious.
"Only if you feel like degreasing power couplings for the rest of your life."
The girls are still laughing about that when Finn comes over.
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"Nice job on the mission. It's all anyone could talk about back here."
(Hey! You should ask Jess what she was just talking about!) BB-8 implores, but the only part Finn gets is hey. "You too, BB-8. I know you helped." Which gets some snickers, but mostly the other pilots seem to be covertly checking him out as much as he's assessing them.
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It's his own fault, really. The moment pilots know there's teasing to be done, they're merciless. And BB-8 hangs with the best of them.
Since Poe's too occupied feeding his face to even be a good enough friend to talk, Kare, Jess, and Iolo take over. All of them have at least the basic mercy to limit themselves to teasing instead of making things really embarrassing. Or maybe they just don't want to see him choke on his rations.
"Thanks," Jess says to Finn. "We got more than we bargained for and hit them with more than they could handle."
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"It's damn impressive." Especially if the only casualty is Poe's fuselage (or whatever he said it was that got damaged, it kinda flew over his head). "Bet you all came here first instead of the showers so you could scare everyone else away from the food, though."
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But Kare grins wickedly. "Look at that, Commander, he's already figuring out all our tricks."
Poe swallows hastily, clears his mouth out with a quick wash of water. "To be clear the stink gambit was Iolo's idea, not mine."
Iolo laughs. "Dameron there said I was being too rude, you know that? Until the first time he missed a meal because he spent too much time washing his hair."
Poe rolls his eyes. "Shorter rations here than we had in the Republic navy."
"Ain't that the truth," Kare says.
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Finn laughs along at the tale. Is it true? Maybe, maybe not. "You call this short rations? One time we were doing a sim on Raxus II and we had to split a single Tauntaun with six other fireteams." He shudders. "This smell ain't nothing compared to that."
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Kare snorts. Poe can't quite find it in himself to laugh. He'd been angry at the government, knowing about the traitors within, knowing that they were trying to ignore the First Order instead of do anything about it--and look where it had gotten all of them. But he's not one to get on his people for showing the sort of black humor that most soldiers have to use now and then just to survive.
"I don't think I've ever been hungry enough to eat a tauntaun," Jess says. "Lucky me."
"You weren't with us on Nimaha," Poe says. "Pinned down for two weeks. Had to boil these roots we found in a nearby swamp, and they uh. Went right through you. If you know what I mean."
"That was right before you got on the squadron," Kare told Jess. "Very lucky you."
Poe snorts and goes back to shoveling the food in. Now that he's not quite so ravenous, he's starting to feel warmly sleep again, and he lists a little bit to lean against Finn's shoulder. Kare smirks, and he shoots her a covert glare.
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Which...he's glad to count himself among them, now. He'd wanted to run away, had been ready to do just that and then they took Rey. And now? He's still scared of them, sometimes, and it affects his sleep, but doing something is better than doing nothing.
But his rising tension lowers as Poe lists against him. Poe's got great reason to know that it's safe here, and if he feels safe, Finn can feel safe. "Hey, none of that till after you shower, unless you want to be washing your sheets, too."
Then he raises his voice to get back into the conversation. "Roots? Do those even count as food? Or is Nimaha one of those places with the little poison rats that'll strangle you if you try to eat them?" Scavenging protocol is to go for processed food first, then meat, then plants; if Poe was eating roots, the meat should have been impossible to eat, right?
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Yeah, real winning argument there.
"'m just leaning," he mumbles around a full mouth. But he is getting awful sleepy.
Kare grimaces. "Too much mercury in the wildlife. Kivann--you remember him, right, Iolo? Koreddin. He was fine. The rest of us wouldn't have been. I would have rather dealt with poison rats."
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"D'you keep emergency rations on you?" He taps his belt; three days of iron rations is a good habit to have and the sole reason he didn't die on Jakku. "Not that they're anything like real food. But they can keep you going in a pinch."
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"Yeah, three days worth. Runs out faster than you think," Kare says.
"Especially if some swamp viper eats all yours," Iolo mutters.
Poe swallows another mouthful. "Also a pretty decent first aid kit," he adds, even if it's slightly off topic. "Close to field medic level."
"So we have the equipment to help out your ground pounders if you really get in a pinch," Kare finishes.
"A-wing's better for that than an X-wing, though," Poe says. He starts scraping his plate. He's contemplating licking it, but he's supposed to have some kind of dignity left. "Go in fast and low, and they can be stealthed. Fun times."
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That's the second time Poe's mentioned an A-wing. "You have one of those before you got an X-wing? Or do you just know everything that has wings?" Probably a little of both, he predicts.
Poe's leaning is getting worse, though, so Finn quickly finishes his plate. "All right, Poe, we better get going before you fall asleep at the table. Catch the rest of you later?" He hopes they'll say yes. They seem friendly enough, and they're clearly very fond of their Leader.
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Poe laughs. "I learned to fly on an A-wing. My mom owned one after she retired. Only dummy armaments on it, but it was still fast as hell and that was all that mattered." It still hurts a little to think about his mother being gone, but the good times outweigh that grief by a lot.
"Yeah, get him to bed, Finn," Jess says, all wide-eyed and innocent, and Poe doesn't buy it for one second. He knows Jess better than that.
"Shower first," he mumbles. The idea of rubbing his stink all over fresh sheets seems almost blasphemous.
"Come back after you've dumbed that sad sack of bantha shit on the garbage heap," Kare says cheerfully. "If we're not here, we're in the showers and we'll be back."
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But you ended up with General Organa, a small voice in his mind points out. Finn silently reminded the small voice that he doesn't quite fit in, even if the pilots are treating him like ofne of their own. He sees the covert glances people give him, and how much of that is because of the rumors and how much of that is because of the way he acts is difficult to tell. But even with the side-eyeing, it's still infinitely better than what he'd come from.
"Shower, toss him on the bed like a sack of garbage, meet you all back here. Got it. C'mon, BB-8, you better come with me so I don't get lost." Okay, he's not going to get lost (Poe's room isn't hard to find), but the little droid is his friend too. He waves to the others as the three of them head out.
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"'m not a sack of garbage," he mumbles as he pries himself out of his seat. Someone's turned up the gravity on this moon, he's sure of it. Well, doesn't hurt to sling an arm around Finn's shoulders and lean on him a bit, just to steady himself. Totally benign.
Stop looking at him like that, Kare. He can smell the trouble brewing, just looking at her grin. Sometimes he wonders if he'd be better off if he could just force choke people like Darth Vader and put the fear of Poe into them. (No he doesn't. Ever.)
"Showers first," he says, as they exit the mess. Showers aren't private even for commanders; it's just not efficient. And once they're there, it's a relief to get his flight suit unzipped, revealing the tight black t-shirt beneath. He leans against the wall of the locker room outside the showers to start unlacing his boots.
(You should have stopped at your room first.) BB-8 points out.
"I'll just wear a towel."
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Once they get to the showers, Finn bats around the idea of a quick sonic shower himself (no water on his back for another week, doctor's orders) but decides to hold off until later. Poe might, despite his promise, need a hand afterwards to get to his bunk.
He looks dubious at Poe's pronouncement, though. "Are you allowed to be in the hallways with only a towel? Cause I can run and get you a set of scrubs or something."
(Or your pajamas! I could show him where those are!) BB-8 adds helpfully.
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He finishes untangling his boot laces and toes his boots off while he's pulling his shirt over his head. His bruised muscles protest, and he ignores them. "It's not that long of a walk back to my room."
(No he's not,) BB-8 offers helpfully.
"That's not true," Poe says. "I'm not allowed to streak back to my room. And that was just the one time when Kare got us all drunk."
(Pajamas, Poe,) BB-8 insists.
Poe flaps a hand. "If you guys are that concerned... do whatever you want. I don't care as long as I'm not wearing this stuff any more." The shirt goes down the laundry shirt, trailing almost visible lines of stink. He throws the boots in after it--they get cleaned too--and starts pulling off the rest of his flight suit.
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