I'll Come Back for You

Everyone in the room turned to stare at Isla, mouths agape. C-3PO made some comment about rude Coreillians. Beside her, Ian rubbed his forehead and groaned.

“I told you that this mission was too dangerous for him to go alone.”

“Lieutenant Dameron.” Admiral Ackbar stood up. “We made that decision based on the information we had at the time. We had no reason to suspect something like this would happen—”

“But I told you—all the intel you have me read through indicates that the First Order has spies everywhere. Nobody should be going on solo assignments—nobody! And now look what’s happened.”

An argument broke out. At least a few people agreed with her.

“Everyone!” General Organa had enough. “As I just said, we will begin to discuss an extraction plan shortly. However, right now I would like everyone to clear this room immediately and reconvene in ten minutes. It’s been a long day—get some air.”

Isla was irate, shoving her chair into the table so hard that it wobbled. She began fishing around for her datapad. She knew she’d brought it with her to the meeting because she'd been trying to find Poe on her tracking system's raider all day, but now it eluded her.

“Lieutenant Dameron, please stay a moment.”

The General’s expression was pained. Isla glared at her, feeling her nostrils flare out. Poe said they always did that when she got worked up.

“Isla.” The stern, yet motherly voice startled her slightly. That meant she was distracted; Isla was never startled. The first time Poe took her flying, he did a double-barrel roll and she never flinched. She didn’t even hold her breath.

Isla saw the datapad underneath a few folders and she snatched it up to her chest.

“Yes, General?” She turned toward the older woman whom she’d admired so much as a child. Her brown eyes, usually sparkling with energy, were watery. Her brown eyes reminded Isla of Poe’s eyes.

“We’re not going to leave him there.” The General locked eyes with her for a moment before briefly looking at some random monitors. Isla sensed a “but.”

“But at this point we have no intel on where they could’ve taken him. As big as it may be, the Finalizer is hard to pin down and even harder to infiltrate. We also have to think about the map.”

“General—” Inhaling sharply, Isla stretched her hand out to steady herself on the back of her chair. She felt light-headed. Damn the map, she wanted to shout.

“I know all of this can be very difficult to hear.” The General paused. “Which is why I ask that you leave the meeting.”

“No.” Isla stood up straighter, feeling her limbs begin to shake. “No.”

“Isla—please. Go calm down for a minute, hug your little girl, and we will discuss our plan of action tomorrow morning.”

The General reached out to Isla, resting her hands on the younger woman’s forearms before pulling into a warm embrace. She held on until Isla broken down and squeezed, tears forming in her green eyes.

“I know it’s difficult.” The General chose her words carefully. “I’ve been here before too. Your Poe may return a little banged up, he's going to come back."

Isla nodded sharply, wiping a stray tear before it fell.

***

With that, Isla turned tightly and calmly walked out of the Control Room. Once the open air hit her lungs, she began to sprint to the barracks until she reached her family’s small living quarters. She flung the door open and rushed inside as tears streamed down her face. Ada would still be in class with the several other children on base and wouldn’t return for hours—they preferred to keep the children away from the flurry of activity as much as possible, especially when their parents were on active duty. By the end of the afternoon, Ada would be returned and the two would go walking in one of the many lush forests this beautiful planet grew. They’d look at the sky and watch for any returning fighters. Ada could name every make and model, but she couldn’t yet lace up her shoes.

It was better this way—Isla needed to pull herself together before she saw her impressionable young daughter.

And to do that, she needed a drink. Isla fumbled around in the trunk at the foot of their bed for the bottle of Cheedoan whiskey. After hastily unscrewing the cap, she took a sloppy, frantic swig. Some of it dripped onto the shirt of her uniform.

After taking another (neater) drink, she turned on the datapad.

“Where are you, baby?” She spoke to herself as she paced the tight space.

Waiting for the tracking program to load, Isla thought back to the night she approached Poe with the microchip.

---

“Where am I supposed to put this?” He raised his eyebrows, a half-grin cocked on his lips.
“In your neck.” Isla piled her hair on top of her head and pointed just to the left of the base of her neck.
“Here?”
She felt his lips where her fingertip had been. Typical. They then began trailing across her back and up her neck.
“Or here?” As usual, he was pleased with himself. He was the kindest, most accepting, gentlest person she knew, but he had an air of confidence nothing could shake.
“Poe.” She moaned slightly when she felt his warm breath against her earlobe, but quickly regained her composure.
“Mmm hmm?” His arms wound around her waist.
“Let me just put this in—it’ll be quick.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth, sweetheart.” A smug smile stretched across the skin of her upper back.
Isla smirked and ran her hand down the leg of his pants; she felt Poe quiver at her touch.
“Just let me do this and then I’m yours, I promise.”
Poe groaned, pretending to be irritated and stomped his left foot. He turned around so that his back was facing her.
“Is it going to hurt?”
Isla boosted herself onto the small desk and loaded the microchip into the gun. It looked like something one would find at a dirty tattoo parlor on Coruscant. He’d been leery about it when she first showed him, but she had torn the whole thing apart and rebuilt it to insert a chip instead of a piercing.
“It might sting,” she answered as she pressed the tip of the gun to a fleshy spot just off to side of the beginning of his spinal cord. And then she pulled the trigger. “But not for long.”
“What the—?” Poe jumped about three feet and clasped his neck. “That fucking hurt, Isla.”
“It’ll be worth it someday.” She wrangled him back toward her so that she could rub some alcohol on the angry red spot. “You’re tagged.”
Then she pressed a cool, damp cloth to the area until he calmed down.
Poe swaggered a little bit when he finally turned to face her. His cheeks were still red from all the excitement.
“So what, like, everyone know I’m yours now?” His rough hands grabbed her own and he began lacing their fingers together. She loved feeling the calluses on his palms.
“Yeah,” she winked. “So you’d better not piss me off because I’m the only one with the tracking program.”
Poe held her gaze, a serious but thoughtful expression taking over his features. His eyes were endless, the deepest brown that almost made them look black. Isla’s world felt like it had stopped moving. She held her breath.
And then he grabbed her, pulling her face against his and kissing her frantically.
“I love you.”
She nodded her response, feverishly weaving her fingers into his hair. She needed him to be closer.
“Thank you for wanting to keep me safe,” he murmured into her neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
They tumbled into the small bed, discarding clothing as they went.

Isla held onto him tightly during her release, watching his face as he followed her into bliss. After a moment of silence, he turned to her, panting slightly. Isla loved lying next to him, their bodies slick with sweat.
“You made a chip for yourself too, right? When do I get to shoot you up?”
She nodded and raised her eyebrows.
“I need a couple of drinks first, flyboy.”

---

“C’mon!” Isla tapped her datapad, cursing the stars for her crude technology. Nothing showed up on screen. Nothing. Not even a teeny blip. She knew it worked—she had watched him land on that damned planet the night before.

He’d probably been beaten so badly that the chip had shorted out. The thought made her stomach lurch and she rushed to the nearest trashcan to vomit. The hard liquor burned twice as much on its way up as it had on its way down.

Regardless of her fears, she continued to monitor the small screen until her eyes were glassy. Several hours passed at an agonizingly slow pace.

***

There was a knock on the door.

Ada.

She wiped her eyes, gargled some water, and quickly answered the door.

“This little one couldn’t wait to get home,” the Youth Officer said, smiling brightly. She, probably like many others on the base, had no idea what had happened.

Isla feigned a cheery response as she took Ada from the woman’s arms. She nodded her appreciation and closed the door.

“I missed you,” Isla whispered in the little girl’s ear as she hugged her tightly. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to sob. Ada was a tiny female replica of her lost pilot, down to the square shoulders and even her ears. “Did you have a good day?”

Ada nodded, squeezing her mother back even harder. Isla inhaled deeply, pressing soft kisses to her baby's face.

“When daddy come home?” Ada grabbed the lump of a brown…well, they weren’t really sure what shape it was…off her cot. It really looked more like a Wookie than anything else, and it wore a mottled orange flight suit that Isla had sewn one evening after much pleading. Ada was a quiet little girl, but she loved her ships and their pilots.

Isla felt like she was gulping in air just to stay on her feet. She couldn’t answer.

“Let’s go for our walk, alright little blackbird?”

Ada nodded happily and reached for her mother’s hand. Isla squeezed it tightly. They spent a few hours in the forests and the fields, quietly pointing out wildlife and looking for incoming X-Wings above. Ada refused to give up on the subject of her father and he time she mentioned him, Isla scooped her up and kissed her forehead.

***

At Isla’s request, Ada slept in her parents’ quarters again. She folded herself carefully into Isla’s chest and fell asleep quickly.

Isla continued to scan the datapad; sleep was far from her mind, but her eyes felt heavy and several times she dozed off, only to land her forehead against the screen and wake up again.

Ada murmured something gently in her sleep, nestling more deeply into Isla’s side. She smelled like freshly dampened leaves and green grass. Isla buried her face into her daughter’s hair and inhaled, wishing Ada could stay innocent and unharmed forever.

And then she saw it.

An orange dot appeared on the screen somewhere east of Jakku. It lingered for a little at least fifteen minutes, but then it began moving toward the desert planet at a fast rate.
She exhaled sharply, all of the air purged from her lungs as if she’d been holding her breath the entire day.

“Poe.”

***

Isla burst into the Control Room nearly out of breath. After she’d coaxed Ada out of bed and into her arms, Isla began running.

The night officers stared at her, some alarmed and others half asleep.

“I found Commander Dameron,” she announced firmly.

***

General Organa was called immediately and she arrived almost as quickly. When she entered the room, Ada blinked her wide eyes several times before offering a small smile.

The General, who naturally held a special spot in her heart for the young girl, tickled her feet lightly in response.

And then it was all business. Isla showed everyone the datapad and explained the tracking chips located in both their necks.

“So let me get this straight,” General Organa asked. “You micro-chipped your husband?”

Truthfully, Isla hadn’t even been considering marriage when she’d told him about the program she’d made.

“Well, you know,” she shrugged. “He wanders.”