#but if I don't do a warm up first the comms will actually take longer

[avinox]

Orym (any pronoun) warm up after only sleeping 3-4h today.

Background and inside of the robe are taken covers from The Sandman, since this character was heavily inspired on those comics

[hunterbunter3000]

I love the first meeting between Kruger and Sweetheart. How about the first meeting between Sweetheart and Alejandro and Rudy 👀

I'm so glad you liked it! ♡ this one is a bit longer I think than the last one

Warnings: blood, violence, gore, details of weapons, very tiny cod gun lore in there (if you notice it, I love you)

When Alejandro and Rodolfo met Sweetheart, they didn't think she would look like that. They thought that a person with the name 'Sweetheart' would be a medic, or maybe an assistant. Not a strikingly tall woman who looks like she can stomp your head in and go shopping for new shoes at the same time.

'It's nice to finally meet you both' she said to them, her regal like voice ringing in Rudy's ears. He had to stop himself from trembling. Alejandro grinned at her, telling her the same. 'It's nice to meet you as well, ma'am. I've heard alot about you.'

Of course he has. Her capitan and sergeant squawked non-stop about her when they met up with Los Vaqueros for the mission. She's well liked around her unit.

She's kind.

She's funny.

Thoughtful.

Playful.

Beautiful.

All good words complimented the woman with great expectations. The expectations were met tenfold to Alejandro.

You're staring too long at her. Snap out of it.

He walked Ghost, Soap and Sweetheart to the car they were taking for the travel, opening the door for Sweetheart. She chuckled at that. 'Such a gentleman.' She said. Alejandro's chest bursts with pride. 'Have to make a good first impression, estimado.' He says with such a flirty undertone, the other three men frown at him.

Don't step out of line, Alejandro. The outcome won't be good.

Her team followed suit in other cars. Rudy was the driver, fingers flexing on the steering wheel out of nerves. He wanted to pull over. He felt too lightheaded from her sweet scent swirling in the cramped car. Wanting to caress her arms while resting on her bosom, melting into her warm touch as they lay next to a fire. His fantasy took over his reality for too long as they already made it to their destination. Rudy breathes out when he gets out the car. He feels warm hand on his shoulder.

Sweetheart.

"You okay?" She asks, concern written on her face. Her beautiful, pretty face. And pretty lips.

He clears his throat. "I'm alright, flor-- I mean- ma'am! I- I meant ma'am." His cheeks flush with embarrassment as she giggles.

Such a pretty smile.

Alejandro was listening, unintentionally but there anyway.

Such a pretty laugh.

The day swirled into a blur, the soldiers already in the works of war. Bullets going off, bodies falling down, and Sweetheart carrying her weight. Alejandro and Rodolfo can't lie when they see Sweetheart actually fighting her way through the enemies like they were butter. Weilding a Remington 870 MCS breaching with 10" barrel, she goes ahead of them and blasts the heads off like balloons. She called it her 'fallen angel' when she was cleaning it at the base.

The blood splatters on her smooth skin, the sharp narrowing of her dark, focused eyes and her black curls now unraveled; she looks more like a warrior than a soldier. As she moves like a raging spirit in the wind, the bodies fall one by one in a mutilated mess.

"Mierda..." Rudy mumbles, hand covering his mouth. Her team seems to be used to this, staying behind and letting her do her thing with awestruck eyes.

She walks in their blood, mocking their loss as she stands over the terrified target.

"Target secured." She lowly says in the comms, picking up the stunned target by the collar like a wet cat. She walks by her team and other units, some stumbling back to get out of her way. Rudy and Alejandro part like the Red Sea, eyes glued on her figure. She's so much more, way much more than being kind and playful.

She's ruthless.

She's intimidating.

Skilled.

Scary.

Beautiful.

[tea-and-finalfantasy]

(18+) SOME LIN KUEI ORAL FIXATION HCS ❄️🔥💨

twt thread link | smut comms open | all links

full text ver & notes below cut

NOTES:

variation in style due to writing chunks on different days/not following the same abbreviations or rules depending on when they were written

so bi-han's was not intended to be longer but is bc it's more fic style than the quick notes i was going for when i wrote smoke's and kuai liang's sections

TEXT

💨starting w smoke as he's the only one i don't hc with an oral fixation himself BUT seeing as, in my hcs for him, his favorite thing is receiving oral, he very much appreciates the trait

💨has a fixation of sorts then with it in other people, always wanting to ease his fingers in their mouth, shuddering at the digits being sucked as if as potent to him as their mouth on his actual cock

💨enjoys seeing ppl with their mouths full, playing with this interest by feeding others--as gently or firmly as he's allowed 💨tests limits by always adding more--more fingers to the ones already inside, fingers alongside his cock, his cock & the dildo strapped above his own

💨evidenced by his fatality where he shoves a grenade in his enemy's mouth, keeping it open wide, pushing forcefully, aggressively, more than once or what's necessary with his whole palm, leaving their lips pursed, unable to close properly over what's forced inside their mouth

💨is not opposed to filling someone's mouth slowly, not pushing limits, just enjoying the slide of anything past another's lips, encouraged by his own hand--

💨but does enjoy seeing how far he can push it, starting off with small ball gags and going until the size is impossible to properly take, watching them struggle and strain their jaw, watching the constant flow of saliva strung down their chin, down the rest of their frame

💨cock aching at how obvious a motion swallowing has to be when struggling around something that won't let your mouth close, aching at those frustrated sounds, encouraging them to repeat themselves as he couldn't get it the first time :)

💨if he's allowed, he wants to grip someone by the hair/head/jaw and facefuck them until they can't take his cock slamming into their throat anymore, until they pull away, cum dribbling down their face and chest, coughing and gagging and drooling all over themselves

💨what he wants most afterwards--before cuddling and aftercare and a hell of a lot of kind, hushed words--is to get himself just as soaked and sticky with cum and saliva, to make an absolute mess of himself, to press his tongue to everything

💨promising to make it up to them amongst the unceasing praise and pecks to the cheeks and forehead, alongside the warm, gentle touch of his hand on the sides of their sore jaw and throat

🔥kuai liang just wants his holes filled and that includes--even prioritizes--something to fill his mouth 🔥loves it socially and despite the undercurrent of arousal to it regardless of setting, it's a calm kind of arousal if he's just doing it to relax

🔥if he's tense or feels out-of-body or vaguely notices, as if outside himself, that he's not fully in it, he knows something in his mouth will ground him 🔥is at first unaware of this (things feel blurry and he just tries his best to sleep it off) and then is ashamed of it--

🔥perceiving it as a crutch, as immaturity, but realizing it's something more frightening to him--feeling his cock leak merely at the thought of something filling his mouth so comfortably, at how overwhelmingly good it would feel--something he can't just will away

🔥still assuming he can stave it off, he'll keep the tip of his thumb between his teeth, almost absentmindedly, when stressed--akin to clicking a pen--feeling it calms him some, makes things more manageable than tackling issues with no ways to calm down afterwards

🔥or when masturbating, he'll bite the side of his hand, already apprehensive about and dismissive of his own desires to commonly stifle himself like this 🔥and these are nice and needed and fine but there's still something not being properly addressed or attended to--

🔥becoming a constant anxiety until he's anxious over any sexual activity, unable to vocalize his desire but similarly unable to ignore it 🔥mentions it out of exhaustion, too tired to fight it anymore, and is not met with derision or mockery, as he assumed he would be

🔥easily met with fingers on his tongue, as soon as he wants it, met with a cock or a strap filling his mouth whether he wants to have to swallow hard or just kneel there comfortably, mouth full

🔥when he's comfortable enough with it, he has a few masks outfitted with pecker gags inside--not long or girthy enough to choke on or struggle swallowing around, just enough to fit in his mouth comfortably or to give him something small to suck on

🔥his eyelids flutter shut, eyes rolling back a bit, and it's immediately noticeable that he's calmed down, to the point of feeling sleepy 🔥when he actually seems like he's going to doze off he'll take it out, spit strung from his lips to the gag, and curl up somewhere to nap--

🔥but while still somewhat awake, he likes to rest his head on someone's shoulder or in the crook of their neck when like this, feeling comfortable and warm and safe, the little suckling sounds only noticeable having him so close

🔥his cock will warm up beneath his clothes, enough to notice he's turned on, for there to be a slight bulge, but unless someone else touches him, he too submissive and spacey to do it himself, as if not knowing how to if he tried, or if he has a wet dream, he'll sleep it off

🔥when needy for it in a sexually charged setting, his favorite thing is getting gagged with a used buttplug. it could be anyone's/he's needy for it from everyone lol/he's a good boy and always says "please" and "thank you" but he whimpers so much for it when it's his own--

🔥easily slid out from his stretched hole and slid right back inside, just this time past his lips and onto his tongue 🔥he's not too loud the majority of the time but however quiet, the little moans and whines are consistent, especially with the taste of himself on his tongue

❄️bi-han's fixation is similar in a submissive sense, in that he does get hard but that arousal isn't always something he'll pursue when he wants to engage with it, in that it calms him when he's feeling high strung, when he's getting the hand tremors that precede a breakdown

❄the submissiveness within the scene is more in how defines his own headspace, going about the engagement silently, dialogue lending itself more naturally to kuai liang's experiences, given how his fantasies play out, but when there is talk--

❄️when he allows himself to hear it (not even being the one speaking) & not freeze up with self-hatred or nerves, the headspace bleeds out into the scene around it, any partner now equally as aware of just how small & fragile he's feeling, it no longer self-contained

❄️so there's difficulty in him speaking up about his own pleasure in the first place, only seeming outwardly confident about it if he can be more aggressive & take it--& still finding any expression of his own pleasure, & thus vulnerability, to be frightening--

❄️so when he's confronted by desire that makes him the solely vulnerable party (or so he assumes), a deep & persistent desire he desperately tried to tamp down once he realized what it was & just how raw it made him feel, he just gets more frantic trying to make it stop

❄️whereas kuai liang assumed this meant he wasn't as strong or self-sufficient as should be, & felt humiliated & ashamed when outwardly recognizing it for the first time, bi-han lashes out when he thinks there's any indication of this "weakness" showing

❄️if he's fighting with the onset of this headspace & feels he's losing, if he thinks the need setting in is perceptible to others, when he's beaten back this desire--for a safe space to be vulnerable & for the specific act itself--for so long with no luck, he bares his teeth

❄️but this cycle only makes the need more immediate, creeping down his spine until it's settled solidly at his back, pushing for proper recognition at all hours of the day

❄️he's desperate for a particular act of vulnerability but also for permission to not feel guilty about wanting what feels good, regardless if he's dominant or submissive or if there are no roles to it at all

❄️he wants to be given the go-ahead, to be allowed self-pleasure & partnership sexually, romantically, platonically, socially--any way he's been denied it thus far, first through the demanding expectations of others & now through those same expectations he's yoking himself with

❄️any previous forays into pleasure or intimacy have been abrupt & inconsistent so while seeming to start with the thing that's most difficult to admit sounds like a horrible idea, it's because it's come to a point where he has no choice but to recognize this one--

❄️& is honestly so worn out from fending it off & failing that he's not even angry or upset when he finally requests it, he's simply exhausted & it's obvious down to the bones

❄️it's at the end of a long day, long merely from having this same thought process banging around inside his head once again, to the point where it was the first thing he'd thought of upon waking & it never left his mind since

❄️he'd been unable to make himself coffee, unable to put on his usual clothes--opting for mostly the same things he went to bed in--unable to type out a single legible thing on his phone, & spent the day resigned to bringing it up, knowing things couldn't continue like this

❄️but in finally giving up on fending it off, he gets some relief in just melting into that headspace, feeling awfully needy as he spends the day in bed, sleepily pressing a forearm between his legs, humping the blankets ever so slightly, almost as if not noticing he's doing it

❄️whenever there's finally someone to admit it to--whomever that is depending on your preferences--it does take some prodding but just in the initial question of "what's wrong" & it not taking any time to be asked, something obviously off the moment they see him

❄️there's something said about feeling off, feeling more stressed than usual--both surprisingly honest admissions on their own--but then he mutters something about wanting something in particular, eyes ticked to their peripherals, staring blankly into the distance

❄️"could i just..." something about sucking on their chest, putting his mouth on them for a while--& while it's met with immediate, enthusiastic acceptance, however quiet, while he feels on the verge of hysterics having made himself sick over something so easily allowed--

❄️now he doesn't know how to get himself in position without having to admit what it looks like & why ❄️but this time he just goes for it, shakily but with some of his usual confidence, at least in moving with the cadence of someone who always intends to take as they please

❄️they settle in comfortably & he feels allowed to do so as well, following their lead in this going however he needs it to, in action & duration & pace ❄️he initially settles in the crook of their arm, pulse & breathing noticeably quicker as he watches them pull their shirt off,

❄️lips parted, dazed but oddly patient about the opportunity, gaze flickering upward & an unsure placement of the hand, waiting for permission an additional time

❄️he's oddly not forceful about it either, physically desperate only in the shaky exhale he lets out when he realizes he's not being lead on or dreaming or that the permission's not being revoked

❄️they mention he must be uncomfortable in that position though with his neck a bit crooked, the rest of him folded up neatly so as to not take up too much space, still unable to comfortably immerse himself in it, to do everything he really wants,

❄️but eventually the arm that's pinned starts going numb & even if it weren't, he'd still need to switch sides to avoid making his partner sore, having been suckling so steadily even at at such a relaxed pace

❄️when he switches sides, this time he lets himself lay his legs over their lap, lets them place their arm behind his head, allows himself to settle in more comfortably--more permanently than before, having assumed he'd rush through it or back out or they'd tire of it

❄️it's comfortable. relaxed. domestic even--even if that's particularly new & scary to admit. but there's no fear or worry to it now, only a steady warmth & perhaps a small moment of humor for them both, him hoping he's not crushing their thighs with his

❄️they pull his head in closer to their chest so he can rest more of his weight on them, so they have a free hand to smooth affectionately over the crown of his head & the overwhelming relief of finally doing this properly, the pleasure of having his hair played with--

❄️the intimacy of the act & how it soothed him immediately, being cared for & doted on, being allowed to feel small & fragile like this but so safe and protected here, makes him start to doze off,

❄️first struggling to keep his eyes open then allowing them to flutter shut but still trying to stay awake ❄️then quiet, steady breaths in as he's out like a light, still suckling a bit in his sleep ❄️no matter how many times he does it, he usually dozes off at some point during,

❄️this first time sleeping well into morning, waking up tucked in neatly, his partner asleep beside him, not unsealing his portion of blankets, keeping one for themselves--enough to avoid a chill, but keeping a hand free to touch his, wanting him to know everything's alright

❄️that he doesn't need to feel ashamed now that the scene's over, if he's even out of the headspace yet. they want to make sure he's okay, they want to wake up next to him--they want to make sure he knows that asking for that didn't drive them away

❄️he's quiet & doesn't usually lapse into using titles, at least outside of his own head, but he's very much not opposed to a partner referring to themselves that way, as "mommy" or "daddy," whichever their preference

❄️it makes his ears go red & he can't look them in the eyes but he always tries (& fails) to hide his bulge, his body so receptive to it ❄️lactation is a huge turn on & is probably how these scenes delve into anything where arousal is actually tended to but it's not a necessity

❄️his enjoyment of it isn't reliant on that in the first place & he doesn't want anyone going out of their way to make it happen (or to subject themselves to any supernatural situations for it, esp if it causes any pain), the headspace making him more than content with pretending

❄️but when he gets to, he drinks like his life depends on it, trying to commit the taste to memory, desperate for every drop, even apologizing when he knows he's sucking too hard & for too long but is unable to get himself to stop

❄️he's also much more talkative & much more physical if he actually gets to drink: panting out "thank you"s as he sucks at their chest, whimpering as he humps their thigh or grinds against the junction of thigh & hip

🧙‍♀️(that's it for now, thank u for reading~ ;w;)👾

[summahsunlight]

We Belong to the Stars, CH.16

Rating: Mature (18+ only) 

Word Count: 2702

Pairings: Poe/Evelyn (OC)

Characters: Poe Dameron, Leia Organa, BB-8, Kaleb Skywalker (OC), Evelyn Skywalker (OC), Karé Kun, Iolo Arana, Snap Wexley, Jessika Pava

Master List / Read on AO3

"Commander Dameron? Are you awake, sir?" 

Poe blinked open his eyes, sunlight rushing at him and immediately he slammed them shut.  He fumbled about the bunk, trying to recall where he had tossed his jacket the previous night. Evelyn draped over his body was making it difficult.  Finally, Poe managed to snag the jacket and find his com link in the pocket. "Yeah," he replied, groggily. "I'm awake. What's going on?"

Evelyn stirred as his com crackled, "Agent Dane is requesting you join him for a briefing," the officer replied, sounding anxious.  "It seems that another part of Agent Lothor's transmission has been located." 

Great. Poe thought as he told the officer he was on his way.  Slipping out from underneath Evelyn, Poe stumbled towards the fresher.  There was no way he was showing up at this briefing without showering; he had same clean clothes in the bag he'd brought to Nar Shadda.  He peeled off his dirty clothes, started the shower up, and then stepped underneath the warm spray of water, feeling it gently massaging away the aches and pains in his muscles.  As much as he would have loved to stay in the shower a bit longer, Poe knew that if he kept Dane waiting, it was only going to make the spy even more ornery. 

Washing his body and hair with whatever soap he could find in Evelyn's shower, Poe finished up quickly.  Now dressed in a fresh pair of black pants, white shirt, and his jacket, Poe stepped back into Evelyn's room.  She was still sleeping, still sprawled out on her stomach on the bed. An overwhelming feeling of affection washed over him as his eyes settled on her pretty face. 

CB-2 greeted him, alerting him that she had woken from her charging cycle.  Poe turned his attention to the shy little droid, patting her dome softly before he instructed that CB-2 let Evelyn sleep.  Fixing his jacket collar, Poe exited her room, peeking around corners to make sure that no one was around to see him.  

"Sorry, Commander," Connix said as he strode into central command. "I know General Organa didn't want you disturbed... but this couldn't wait."

"It's fine," Poe said with a wave of his hand. "Where's Dane?"

"Situation room with Major Ematt."

"Great. I wonder where Dane is sending me next to get shot at for him."

Connix smiled at him as he moved towards the situation room. Poe rapped on the door and immediately it slid open.  Stepping inside, he waited for the door to shut before he spoke. "You wanted to see me?"

Dane had been leaning on the table when Poe entered. Pulling himself up to his full height, his green eyes narrowed in on the pilot. "We traced another transmission; it's on the abandoned Imperial Base on Scarif."

Poe crossed his arms over his chest. He vividly remembered his father talking about that planet; it had some significance to the Rebellion.  Right now, he couldn't recall what that significance was, and he doubted that was going to help him retrieve that transmission. "An abandoned base? Shouldn't be that hard to retrieve it then."

"I would think you wouldn't be fooled so easily, Commander. Those abandoned Imperial bases are littered with booby traps." 

"Okay, well, since you obviously don't think I have the knowledge to handle booby traps, why don't you go to Scraif?"

"Because my assignment, Commander, is to trace the transmissions. It's your job to retrieve them." 

Major Ematt cleared his throat. "The base on Scarif, Poe is inaccessible.   It is too heavily damaged for you and your team to safely enter, there are several communication towers and posts that were not as damaged that we think your squadron can safely approach.  You should be able to retrieve the transmissions from one of those master switches. The planet was used as a test shot for the Death Star, not its full power, but enough to show the Alliance that they had the fire power to destroy us all and it has been used for anything since."

Poe glanced at the older man, a memory of his mother flooding to the forefront of his mind--a lot of good people lost their lives to get us those plans, Poe. Remember, victory doesn't come without great sacrifice.  He wished he could remember the story she had been telling him.  Setting his jaw, Poe nodded. "I understand, Major. When do you want Black Squadron to leave?"

Dane was the one who answered. "As soon as General Organa approves the operation."

"I guess I'll go brief my squadron," Poe said, looking towards Ematt to see if he was free to go. Ematt silently nodded, and Poe exited the situation room. 

Halfway to the hanger, Poe felt a hand grab his shoulder and he was suddenly slammed against the wall.  Dane was looming in front of him, glaring. "You know, you might not have to like me, but you damn well better start respecting me, Dameron," the spy growled. "You waltz into that room twenty minutes after I called you, smelling like a woman--Major Ematt and I are not stupid, we know where you were."

Poe shoved his hand away. He knew this had nothing to do with the briefing that had just occurred, it had everything to do with the fact that Poe smelled like Evelyn since he'd used her soap in the shower.  "You know what I think is really happening here, you can't stand it that she wants to be with me and not you.  This has nothing to do with rank or respect; it has everything to do with the fact that Evelyn is with me and not you. Oh, and by the way-- the last time I checked, you technically don't outrank me."

Dane's jaw twitched and rage pooled in his eyes. The look made Poe's blood run cold. This was a man who cared very little for the well being of others. "Oh, I'm not worried about her being with you; she'll be mine again, eventually," the spy said, tightly. "Evelyn will realize her mistake soon enough."

"Are you threatening her?" Poe countered. He clenched his fists, if this man so much as laid a finger on Evelyn...

"Do you feel threatened, Dameron?" Dane shot back, a wicked smile on his face. 

"You don't scare me, Dane. But I'm gonna warn ya, don't touch her."

"Or you'll..."

Poe contemplated his answer. Kick your ass, make sure you never set foot on D'Qar again, he thought, angrily, break your neck.  Breathing through his nose, Poe made sure to take a step back before he did something he might later regret. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Snap and Kaleb, and stepped back even further.  Clearly, Dane was looking for a fight. Not saying a word, just throwing a hard look at Dane as he joined his friends, Poe mumbled to Snap, "come on, we have another mission."

Snap glared directly at Dane before following behind Poe, Kaleb bringing up the rear. "Where we heading this time, Commander? And are you okay? You looked like you about to strangle him... not that I would blame you."

Kaleb saw the tension in Poe's shoulders as he refused to answer Snap.  He felt the rage simmering off of his friend, and cautiously reached out to the Force, knowing that Poe hated it when his friends probed him like this.  "Dane threatened Evie, didn't he?"

"What?" Snap gasped.  He grabbed Poe's arm and stopped him.  "Is that true, Poe?"

"Yeah... it was thinly veiled, but it was still a threat," Poe ground out.

"He's just egging you on, Poe, to see if he can start a fight," Kaleb said with a shake of his head. "I don't think he'd actually hurt her."

"And what if he isn't just egging me on? I don't trust him."

"What's he going to gain from hurting her?"

Poe clenched his fists, pressing them against the sides of his legs. "Once General Organa approves it, we're heading to Scarif--find Jess, find Evie, and let them know," he ordered Snap, signaling that he was done with the previous conversation.

Snap glanced tentatively at Kaleb and then pushed his way past Poe to go find the rest of their squadron. "Very well, Commander. I'll tell them to stand by and prepare for our next mission. Hope this one goes more smoothly than the last two." 

Scarif, Abandoned Imperial Base

General Organa gave the green light to the mission within an hour of Dane requesting it.

Due to the nature of the mission, and the possibility that they were going to have to disarm ammunition, the General had assigned Paige Tico to the crew. Poe knew little about her, but Evelyn was friends with her, and trusted her--that was good enough for him. Paige admitted to him before they left D'Qar that she wasn't much of a combat pilot, but Poe was worried about running into any First Order patrols. The four x-wings and one a-wing entered the orbit of Scariff two hours after entering hyperspace.  "Welcome to the tropical paradise of Scarif," he said over the open channel to his squadron.  "Form up around me and follow me down."

Black Squadron fell into formation.  As they descended into the atmosphere the devastating destruction from the Death Star's blast came into view.  Poe felt his chest tightening, thinking about the Empire firing on their own people. The base lay in crumpled ruins, decaying hulls of ships lined the otherwise pristine beaches.  There had been a battle here, during the Galactic Civil War; Kes had often talked about the friends he'd lost, ground troops that had joined what could only be described as a suicide mission. 

Now, as the fighters flew along the ocean, salt spraying up behind them, it was as if they had traveled to a different place in time.  Poe noticed that the comms were silent, something that he wasn't used to from his team--they were always bantering--even they felt the heaviness of this place. Or it was the gravity of their mission--there were dozens of defunct communications towers and master switches that they were going to have to check and they were not going to be easy to get too. 

Looks like we'll be camping out for a few days, Poe thought as he directed his squadron to land on a flat, long stretch of beach. When Poe disembarked his fighter, BB-8 was complaining about the sand and the salt in the air; it wasn't the best environment for droids.  "I'll make sure you get a good gear scrub when we return to base," he promised the little droid.

"Stars, I thought D'Qar was humid," Jess said, beginning to peel off the top half of her flight fatigues.

"We can set up camp here," Poe instructed, doing the same as Jess and removing the top half of his fatigues.

"Camp?" Snap countered. "We're camping here?"

"You saw how many towers we're going to have to check on the way in," Paige said. "It's going to take us days."

"We have plenty of rations for five days," Evelyn pointed out, removing the camping equipment from her fighter. 

"Great. Rations," Snap said with a roll of his eyes.

"Come on, Snap," Poe teased, grinning, "it will be fun!"

Snap glared at him as the pilots began to set up their camp. After an hour of putting tents together and venturing into the jungle a little bit to find a clean water source to fill canteens, they were ready to start working on the communications towers. 

Poe thought it would go faster if they split up into teams. He sent Paige with Jess, Snap, and their droids.  Evelyn, BB-8 and CB-2 followed him in the opposite direction. After trekking through the dense jungle, being careful not to trip any mines that the Empire might have left behind, they arrived at the first tower. It was obvious that the elements and time had taken its toll on the massive metal structure. Working together, Poe and Evelyn removed the panel to access the inner works of the tower, only to find the wires so badly corroded that neither of them believed this tower was still capable of receiving a transmission.

Never the less, they hooked BB-8 up to the tower and began to work. Amazingly the little droid was able to download some information, but he reported that it wasn't from Agent Lothor--he had managed to retrieve some Imperial files that he believed they'd find quite interesting.

Evelyn glanced at Poe and took a deep breath. "You never know, maybe we'll find something in those files that will give us tips to defeating the First Order."

Poe smiled, softly.  "Before her death, your mother mentioned that the Emperor was more devious than anyone in the Rebel Alliance believed. She was certain he'd find a way for his Empire to be rebuilt, even if he were to be killed."

"She was never convinced that the Empire was completely eradicated from the galaxy."

"Well, apparently she was onto something."

BB-8 whistled that he was done, detached himself from the tower, and instructed the pilots where they had to go next.  He took off, rolling through the ferns, CB-2 behind him.  Poe and Evelyn gathered up their equipment and followed after their droids.  For the next two hours they followed the same procedure, find a tower, or communication station, open the panel, hook one of the droids up to it--and only retrieve ancient Imperial files. 

Poe was hot, frustrated, and tired when he pulled his commlink from his pocket.  "Hey, Snap.  Let's wrap up for today. Meet us back at camp."

Snap sounded just as hot, frustrated and tired when he answered. "Sure thing, Poe. Hope you had more luck than us." 

I wish we did, Poe mused, heavily.  He led the way back through the jungle, along the path they game because they knew it was clean of mines.  It was nearly dark by the time they made it back to the camp.  Paige, Jess, and Snap had started a fire.  Already the three were sitting around it, digging into rations packs, and draining their canteens.  As soon as Poe and Evelyn joined them, it became apparent that the pair had no luck getting the transmission from Lothor.

Jess handed Poe a ration pack. "You think Dane sent us here to just get us out of his hair for a few days?"

Poe shrugged his shoulders. "He must have had something in order for the General to approve the mission."

Paige took a bite of her dinner. "Those towers haven't been maintained in years. If I had to take a wager, I'd say it's been at least thirty."

"Sounds about right," Snap drawled. "After the battle that wiped out the base here, the Empire left this system."

"Why would Agent Lothor pick this place then if it's been abandoned for so long?" Evelyn questioned.

"Maybe he was hoping that the First Order wouldn't trace it here. Or if they did, they wouldn't bother, since it's so old."

"So far, he's right--there's been no sign of the First Order here at all."

"Let's hope it stays that way."

Poe finished his ration pack and tossed the empty tray into the fire.  Watching it get devoured by the flames, he glanced up at Evelyn.  The kyber pendant caught reflected the light from the flickering flames and he wanted to move across the site to wrap her into his arms--but he knew that he couldn't.  First, they were on a mission and it was best to keep their feelings for one another out of those.  Second, their squadron still had no idea they were officially back together.

Snap elbowed him, letting him know that he'd been staring at her. Paige and Jess laughed as color instantly rose to Evelyn's cheeks.  Poe quickly adverted his eyes and mumbled that he was going to turn in for the night.  Shifting, he headed back towards his tent, glancing once over his shoulder to meet Evelyn's gaze one last time before he slipped inside his tent.