Torn // Poe Dameron

26. Freedom

I stumble through the halls as fast as possible but I already feel the pushing effect of the adrenaline ebbing, making way for the pain of the extent of my injuries.

The cuffs dig into my wrists, the whip streak on by back got accompanied by three deep cuts by the monsters claw.
The tunnel curls away coldly into infinite darkness, the light of my saber illuminating the rough walls. My naked skin shudders and I can feel my brain starting to defocus, searching for a way out.
Am I running further into the labyrinth of construcion that this hive is?

Then, a door appears in my eye sight. Not a metal one but made out of wood, held together by rusty iron nails. My hands brush over the old wood but not encountering any door knob or just generally a way to open it.

I take a few steps back and ram my shoulder against it. With a squeaking noise the door flies open.
That was it.

I feel smug at my little victory, I have really made it. I am free from the filthy clutches of the cruel slave masters. I am finally going home, a home whose wings have not yet been torn by the evil.

Now, spacecraft. I need to get off this damn planet but where to find a ship?

It appears I exited the building on its backside and now walk over the red ground, to my luck just to my right is a transporter. A single ship...but I don't have time to question the location of mysterious spacecraft. The only thing that counts is that it's here and that I'll take it to flee.

It's a smaller, white and blue model, about 52 meters in length, 52 in width and about 13 meters in depth. Those transporters usually possess two engine units and are equipped with hyperdrive rating and laser cannons.
Those ships are usually not flown by Resistance or First Order.

Climbing inside the ship reveals about enough space for 24 passengers and 4 crew members. Well, I'll be alone but it's not like I need a crew anyway.

I sink down in the pilots seat, the familiarity of flying a ship, any ship makes me feel at ease. It's a passion of mine that I inherited from my father and share with Poe...and Kylo.

Anyways.

My fingers glide over the circuit breakers, checking that they are all pushed in, the avionic master is off. I turn the fuel selector valve to 'both' and open the throttle by 1/4 inch, pulling the knob all the way out and pushing it back in about 1/4 of an inch back in.

Next, set the mixture to "idle cutoff", which is just a fancy way of saying 'pull the mixture knob all the way out' to cutoff the flow of fuel to the engine.

With quick fingers I get the engine ready and flick the now red-blinking master switch on and push the mixture in to full rich.

The carburetor heat is cold and I start pumping the primer. The engine roars to life, I push the switch forward and take off.

The spacecraft, although never flown before, feels like home to me, and my brain allows my body to relax. For a second, a proud smile spreads over my face. I escaped. I did it.

But it simply took the blink of an eye to wash it off my lips. Wafia is dead, another innocent soul that I have on my consciens. It's not so much her death--I've seen plenty of death and caused even more-- it's the fact that I am responsible for the fight, I dragged her into this and vowed that I would save her. The failure leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

What could I have done?

I ask myself the same question repeatedly, seeking for the logical part of the answer that I must have missed the first time. The cruel cycle of recalling every memory and replaying it back begins.

I set in the destination for Tatooine, put the ship on auto-pilot and lean back. The little fabric I'm wearing clings to my body, drenched in blood and sweat.

I will just fly back to Tatooine, look for Poe or send another distress signal. The idea of his face calming my throbbing brain.

"Excuse me?"

My body on high alert, I jump out of my seat, my hand shooting to the saber on my side.

A man steps into the cock-pit, his big boots make a rhythmical noise against the metal, solid and regular like a soldier. His face is stern, yet peaceful as he approaches me.

"Don't come closer!"
He stops in his tracks, raising his hands in front of his chest as a sign of harmlessness, looking at me with a serious yet not unkind expression.

His curls are midnight black and his eyes are dark green, framed by graceful brows. His skin is tanned. He has prominent cheekbones and a well-defined chin and nose. Muscles ripple across every part of his body. He is obviously a seasoned warrior, although he can't be older than thirty.
He wears cargo pants, a dark green shirt, tucked into his belt and a brown leather jacket, on its left side the resistance emblem.

"Who are you?" I ask, trying to sound not too quizzically.
A small smile washes over his lips, "Who am I? Who are you? You broke into my ship"

"Are you with the resistance?" My finger is pointed directly at his chest with the small sign.
"Yes, I'm Kemi Rhilt...who are you?" His brows turn into a friendly frown, not that I blame him. I stole his ship after all.

"I'm-" if he is from the resistance he can't be a foe, can he? "I'm Izora, Izora Solo"
"I knew you looked familiar" his whole being turns from defensive to a wide smile "would you like my jacket? You look a bit...cold"

"Yes, thank you. How come I don't remember you? I lived on D'Quar my whole life?" I walk back to the pilots seat, pulling the warm jacket around my body and sink down.

He takes seat next to me.
"I just started there about a year ago"
"Oh" is all that escales my mouth. Right, there was something.

"So, where are ya headed?"
"Ehm, back to Tatooine" I glimpse through the windshield.
"Why?"
"I... lost someone there, before I got here" my eyes drop to my naked legs, hoping he knows what I mean without me having to spell it out.

He hums and leans on the armrest.
"I wanted to look for him but do you think it would be smarter to go back to D'Quar and order a search troop?" Somehow I'm happy about finding an ally, since I've left Tatooine I was alone with no one to talk to, except for Wafia, although she would sob most of the time.

"Oh, after the First Orders attack we had to evacuate everything and move. If you want I can take you to the new base" he offers and I feel my face lighting up. Everything seems to work out after days, weeks, months of misery.

"That would be great"
"You can lie down in the back, I'll take us there" he doesn't even need to finish his sentence before I fall out of the seat and walk through the doors to look for something to lie down on.

I haven't eaten much the last days, I haven't slept much either. My body is drained from the pain, the fighting, all those feelings crashing down on me.
As soon as I lay down on the bench in the back, my eyes fall shut and I drift into a sweet, long overdue sleep.