Torn // Poe Dameron

7. The Resistance

Everything is blurry.
My eyes open, my eyelashes faintly batting against my lids when I blink. My muscles feel weak, just like my energy. I let out an exasperated sigh, groaning as I slowly sit up.
Where am I? How long had I been out? All of these questions shoot through my mind as I let out another groan.

I am on dusty ground, leaning against a grey wall. I want to get up or at least adjust my position but my hands are cuffed.

There is nothing in this cell except for myself. The bars that imprison me are too thick to break. My lightsabre, the only device to cut through the bars, is, of course, not on my belt.

In front of my cell is a small round table with two chairs next to them, probably for a warder, who is nowhere to be found though. I can spot a staircase, probably the only way to get down to this jail.

For a while I just sit there, leaning against the wall of my cell.
I'm not concerned or scared. The first order will come looking for me sooner or later and if I am at the resistance's base, they already know where it is.

Once more annoyance fills me. If I wasn't that weak, I might've been able to break out of here, I wouldn't even be captured in the first place. If it wasn't for my stupid feelings and hallucinations I wouldn't even be injured.

My arms rest on my knees, while I stare onto the ground.
A distant noise disturbs the silence.
Due to the dusty ground almost all of the sound is absorbed but the approaching footsteps grow louder and louder with every step.

Two men in brown clothes and blasters in their arms appear in front of the bars, on their jackets the emblem of the Resistance.
So it won't take long for Kylo to find me.

Behind them enters a small woman with brown eyes, her greying hair braided into a crown, surrounding her head.

She looks down at me, then at the two men beside her and signals them to leave with a single nod.

Her eyes are on me again. Soft, warm, welcoming even. Her eyebrows raised a centimetre or two, lined with something between worry and concern.

Her hazel eyes twinkle in content as if she knows something I don't. But there is a certain amount of sadness that poisons her mild smile, making it a perfect mixture of sorrow and joy.

"Hello, Izora" the beginning of a smile hushes over her lips.
I don't respond but just stare at her, expressionless.

She takes one of the chairs and sits down right in front of the metal bars and folds her hands in her lap.

"Do you remember me?" Is her first question and I can hear that it pains her to ask that.
Immediately, my brows turn into a frown and I just look up at her quizzically and with a bit of anger. Why would I know anyone from the resistance?

"No" my voice isn't loud but still sharp. I notice a slight change in her expression. She is not surprised by my answer but it seems to crush her.

"Am I at the Resistance base?" After she kept quiet for a moment I found it fitting to start questioning her.
She nods.

"What do you want from me?" I ask blandly. They probably expect me to have important information, due to my position in the first order. I'm prepared for torture or death but I will not give up any valuable information.

Her eyes that sunk to the ground look at me again, her eyebrows slightly raised. Her expression softens and she sighs.

More footsteps disrupt the silence she created. Each footfall is chaotically spaced from the last, no rhythm at all. The person must be pacing down the stairs.

Out of the staircase comes a dark haired man. For a moment he holds on to the door frame and looks at me before he steps closer.

"Izzy! I heard you woke up" he exclaims excitedly, his hands now resting on the steel bars.
"Poe, don't" the woman speaks up her tone soft and pained.

I look up at the man in front of me. He has dark hair, brown eyes and tanned skin. He wears a light blue shirt and brown cargo pants and a belt with weaponry on it.

Confused and disgusted by the entire situation I meet his disappointed eyes.
My mouth is slightly agape and my eyes are squinted, eyebrows pulled into a frown. What is going in here?

Frustrated and maybe even angry the man called Poe turns to the woman, searching for answers. But she just responds with a sorrowful look.

"We knew there was a possibility this would occur."
But Poe doesn't want to hear her words, turns around and leaves, cussing under his breath, his boots falling loudly with each step.

The woman gazes at the staircase, about to follow him. They can't leave me here with more questions than before.
The old woman gracefully gets up, a defeated look on her face, and is about to walk through the small door.

"Wait!" I shift as I raise my voice, trying to stand up.
She turns around.
"What is your name?" My face still contorted in an angry way.

A mild smile appears on her face.
"Leia. Leia Organa"