I'll Come Back for You

As soon as she could, Isla made contact with the base.

“We are on our way back now.” Isla spoke into the comm. “No indication we’re being followed.”

She glanced at Poe, who was managing to sleep, albeit restlessly. Hyperaware of his presence, she nearly jumped out of her seat each time he moved; nothing more would happen to their Commander on her watch.

“Commander Dameron needs immediate medical attention.” Her throat tightened. “Broken nose, maybe a couple broken ribs, several deep flesh wounds…I’ve done everything I can.”

“Dammit,” someone muttered into the comm as the General paused.

“What about you, Isla?” Weariness was heavy in General Organa’s voice.

“Stab wound,” she muttered. She knew what the General was thinking—surprise, surprise. Everyone around that damned holotable was undoubtedly muttering—This is what happens when you just her in alone; I told you this would happen if we sent his blasted wife.

Isla reclined in the pilot’s chair, propped her dusty black boots on the co-pilots chair, and tossed a small ball back and forth between her hands. She’d been watching Poe sleep for hours. At one point he’d woken up, shaking and teeth chattering. By the time her frantic search for a blanket came to fruition, he was dripping sweat and pushing her away. Isla felt his forehead and she recoiled slightly, panic beginning to course through her veins—he was burning up. One of his wounds had become infected. You’re too close, he had moaned feebly. I can feel your body heat.

When Poe Dameron passed up a chance to crack a joke about her “hotness”, something was unquestionably wrong. Isla decided to contact base once more.

“In addition the injuries mentioned in prior communications, it appears that Commander Dameron has developed a moderate to severe infection. Please be ready with the necessary medical supplies upon our return.”

Isla clicked off the comm and hung her head. They still had a long way to go and the only thing she could do was keep a watchful eye on him and pray that she hadn’t fucked everything up.

---

“Lieutenant Kesson, your actions during yesterday’s assignment were highly objectionable.” General Organa spoke sternly, hands planted firmly on the holotable as she leaned against it. “You could have compromised the entire mission by starting that gunfire.”
The others looked at her, some disapprovingly. Isla’s eyebrows quirked upward in disbelief. Was she really getting this speech right now? Because of her, they had successfully returned to base with both the sought-after intel and their damned best pilot. Granted, he had a spilt lip where he’d been punched in the face, but he was still sitting here in front of everyone now.
“With all due respect, m’am, I was protecting one of our best assets.”
The General pursed her lips. “I apologizing for being frank, but it just so happens that ‘one of our best assets’ has been sharing your bed for the past four years. It’s difficult for me to tell if you’re both just enormous risk-takers because you think that’s how the job will get done, or if you’re doing these things out of fear for the other. At least at this point, your actions haven’t been too costly”
Heat crept into Isla’s cheeks but she refused to let a little embarrassment break her eye contact.
“This is not the first time we’ve had this discussion.”
Poe’s lips disappeared into a thin line and his eyebrow rose slightly; he didn’t look too pleased about the lecture.
“General,” he began. “Those missions were all great successes and shifted the entire playing field for us.”
The General blinked and moved on. She rarely disregarded Poe, so they knew she was beyond irritated; after all, Poe was one of her most trusted operatives. General Organa had worked closely with his parents during the Rebellion when Poe was just an infant. It was she who sought him out for the very same reason she was reprimanding them—bucking protocol to get the job done.
“I can’t send you on missions together if you’re going to jeopardize our work because of your…emotions.”
Isla’s mouth opened in protest but General Organa cut her off.
“And you should know better.” She turned to Poe, who merely folded his arms across his broad chest. “You are the superior officer in this…dynamic. Yes, she is there to keep you safe, but you need to know when enough is enough.”
Isla had been biting the inside of her lip so hard that she could taste blood. Neither of the two spoke. After a brief pause, the General spoke again.
“I hope you understand what a tough spot this puts me in. My interest is in preserving the Resistance and destroying the First Order. You are both people I trust highly to help me achieve these things, as you are each very good at what you do. So you’ll see why it upsets me so much that I feel like I can no longer send you out on assignments together without worrying whether or not we will be compromised.”
“General,” Isla interrupted. She tried to keep her breathing level as General Organa regarded her with a pinched expression. “You send me on these missions to protect him. So I can do both.”
“Lieutenant Kesson—”
“I would not act if I felt like I couldn’t protect both our work and Commander Dameron. My actions may seem brash to those of you sitting in a room.” A few people muttered and General Organa’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “But I don’t do these things lightly.”
“You have too much confidence in your abilities,” an Admiral on the other side of the table chimed in. “That’s what’s going to get us into trouble. It is not uncommon for both parties in question to occasionally diverge from protocol because of their inflated…self-esteem.”
Poe’s eyes narrowed.
“If anything,” Isla continued, ignoring his statement, “This last assignment—and the several others you have referenced today—proves that I can do the job I am assigned to do. And do it well”
“You barely made it out with your heads,” the Admiral responded.
“But we did make it out—with our heads and the intel.”
Isla felt Poe’s hand slip onto her knee and squeeze it gently. He was signaling her to tread lightly.
“Will everyone please excuse Lieutenant Kesson, Commander Dameron, and myself?”
After a few of nervous throat-clearings, the others began to exit. General Organa waited until the room cleared out.
Isla spoke first.
“Would we be having the same conversation, m’am, if Commander Dameron and I were not in a relationship?”
The General bit the inside of her cheek, studying the two officers in front of her.
And then she did the completely unexpected and placed her hands over each of theirs where they rested on the table.
“I’ve been where you are,” she explained, a little misty-eyed. “When Han and I were—it’s a difficult position to be. When the person you love is in trouble, you’re going to do whatever you have to do. I get it, I really do.”
Isla and Poe glanced at one another.
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
Poe started to speak, but he was cut off.
“I can’t order you to end this relationship, because truthfully if it didn’t mean something to the two of you it would’ve been over years ago. And, let’s face it, neither of you would listen to me anyway.”
The corner of Isla’s lips dipped into a smirk and she looked at Poe, who was already smiling at her.
The General tried somewhat unsuccessfully to suppress her own affectionate expression.
“I’ve come to care for you both very much—you are each so special. You came into my life at a time…when I really needed to see spirited, caring young people like yourselves. So, all that I’m asking is that you just try a little harder not to make such a mess everywhere you go. I know it doesn’t happen every time, but it happens too often and I do have other officers to think about.”