"You don't want to sell me death-sticks. You want to go home and rethink your life."

POE

Finn
is currently caked in a layer of sand and dust from the raging storm outside. My old jacket has made a reappearance on his shoulders, which is also dusty. I obediently repeated Leia's commands from the holo projector over and over in my head so I can get them solid.

'Retrieve Lando, avoid First Order, don't die.' Got it.

My slick back hair, that was gelled to perfection if I might add, is now acting as an aggravating sand magnet. Unruly and dry, I consistently have to practically wring it out and watch toe buckets of sand fall past my eyes.

Finn turns to me, his solid brown eyes serious, and thinking. "What's goin' on?" I ask him, my smile begins to fade.

"I-", he's nervously stuttering again, "I'm just-just worried about Rey, that's all."

Ah, he fancies her that's obvious. The last time I saw Rey she never spoke a word to me. I saw her from afar when she hugged General Leia before leaving on The Falcon. Her light brown hair shimmering in the sun, and her tanned fair skin. I bet she has a great smile.

Whoah brain, what?

"She'll be alright Finn, she can hold her own," I say. My boots scraping against the gritty floor as I shuffle past him, looking anywhere but his eyes. I get to the sliding door and peek through the window slit. The storm had died down and you can see the town lights not so far off.

"So what now?" Finn asks me from across the room. Droopy eyelids and his haggard expression is not a good combination for him.

"We go look for Lando," I reply as I finger comb my hair.

Finn slides past me and signals the door to open. "Then let's go." Is all I hear him say before I turn to see him jog into the last remains of the storm.

* * *

"What the..." Finn blurts out as we enter our first bar. It's been a while since I've been to a joint like this but from what I've heard, this is the usual around here. Pulsing music drummed my chest, the strong aroma of alcohol and grime reached my nostrils as did Finn's and we scrunched our noses in protest. There are positive colored lights scattered all around the ceiling, showering beings in blues yellows and orange hues. Liquids were constantly being spilled due to the lack of awareness of the drinkers that stumbled about and getting looks from the women that were also scattered around the bar. At least, from what I can see they were female...I think. Alien physiology is a miss for me.

"Hey there boys..." A brightly colored pink twi'lek strolls up to Finn with a purple drink in a glass that she's carrying loosely between her delicate, thin fingers. Her smile was fake, I've seen it before. She drapes an arm around Finn, he obviously had no idea on how to react to this sudden artificial affection. The Twi'lek handed Finn the drink and gave him a petty look, looking up at him through her dark lashes as she aligns her lips into a classic pout.

I step back to Finn and slide a hand down the twi'leks smooth draping arm, placing it back by her side. Then she starts toward me with a mischievous smile and a sassy glint in her violet eyes.

"C'mon," I say to Finn as I quickly grasp his arm for dear life and haul him to the bar. Finn, drink still in hand, complies with my tugging and follows behind.

We get to the bar and I inspect his little gift from the girl. I rip the purple drink from his hands and bring it up to my nose to take a quick whiff. "Hey-" Finn protests at first and I reach up my palm to stop him, "don't drink this," I say.

"Why-"

"Just don't."

A sizzling aroma fills my nose, immediately signaling alarm bells in my head. I slam the glass down hard on the bar table that shocks Finn from his gaze and he flinches away from me. Paralyzing, rhythmic drum music is being presented to my, now, deaf ears and proudly being played by some sweaty pig, Gamorrean band on a small elevated stage at the front of this 'fine' establishment.

"Hey!" A loud raspy voice yelled in my ear so I turned my head to see one of the ugliest things I've ever seen in my life. It's the bartender but I have no idea how he expects to sell any drinks with a wrinkled up Hutt's backside for a face.

"Yes?" I answer politely back.

"It's either buy something or get out!" He spat his lower lip curling over.

I turn my face away from him and his putrid breath to scan the crowd of beings that make up the customers.

No Lando.

"We were just heading out, right Fin-" I jump off the bar stool to where Finn used to be but no longer there. This can't be good.

My heart rate quickens and thumps in my chest as I frantically scan the crowd again but Finn doesn't come into view. The bartender was resting behind me and slowly cleaning out a glass with a dirty cloth.

"Did you see where my buddy went?" I ask hurriedly, jutting a thumb over my shoulder where Finn should've been.

The bartender doesn't look up at me, just continues to clean the glass, "yeah, some guy with a bucket on his head grabbed em' a minute ago."

Trying to act like as if I didn't just have a small stroke, which I did. I reply, "Alright, thanks."

He wrenches out an ugly arm and grabs my wrist before I could leave, "hey! Info ain't free kid."

My eyes perform a heavy roll as I shove my other hand into my pocket and dish out a few credits, "thanks again, sir." Sarcasm is my specialty.

What if the First Order took him? What else could it be?

I exit through the main doors into the sandy village, the sun set long ago and now the cool night has rested itself across the sky. Taking in the scenery, I begin to stepping towards a random direction when I hear voices from my left, in the shadow of the cantina.

"K'urr di'kutla!" A raspy, altered voice barked at, from what I could see a very frightened and somewhat angry Finn. A burly, heavily armed man stood over him. He had blasters to no bounds and a familiar looking helmet from the back but I couldn't see the face of it until he turned to the sound of my steps on the sand stone, then suddenly there was the cold barrel of a blaster connected to my forehead and the reflection of my horrified expression on his black T-visor.

"Jorhaa'ir ghar gai'bal!" He spat, seemingly disgusted by my mere existence.

"Poe! Poe Dameron." I reply to is order for my name. I knew only bits and pieces of the Mandalorian dialect but I'm a bit rusty, I've never even imagined I would ever have to confront a Mandalorian let alone speak with one. Of course, not that I would want too.

"Usen'ye! Aaray ash'ad." He barked again through his helmets speaker, as he turned back to Finn. I didn't get the entirety of his meaning but I'm pretty sure he insulted me.

"Hey!" I say stubbornly, "you speak Basic?" I asked rather rashly.

The corner of his visor became visible as he turned slightly at my question. He still has his right fist balled up into Finn's black shirt and held him on his toes.

"Mir'osik, ori'haat." His voice sounded different this time. He cleared his throat slightly, "yes, small fool. Now get going." He has the deep and ragged voice to match his structure that's for sure.

What's with everyone thinking I'm a kid? I'm thirty-seven years old! Well, it's not exactly a bad thing now that I think about it...

"How about you let my comrade go, and we will be right on our way." I reply with a cheery tone and gesturing the the opposite direction.

The mando let out a deep throaty chuckle as he throws his head back, "ha! No deal, this boys' gotta a heavy bounty riding on his back and I intend to collect it." He brings Finn closer to his emotionless visor but I could tell he was wearing an evil sneer under that helmet.

"Tell ya' what, we pay you not to turn us in and we act as if we never even saw you and you can go on about your mercenary-like business elsewhere." Snapping my fingers, sealing the deal so to speak.

A small snippet of silence passes between us before he unexpectedly ripped the bucket from his head.

He was surprisingly fairly young, probably in his late thirties, short cut hair and a stylishly trimmed beard that I'm kind of jealous of at the moment but I'll think about that later. He has tanned skin that's gritted with sand, sweat, and grime from all the time on this desert rock. He folded his helmet under the crook of his other arm as he glared at me.

"Look, I know you two must be a part of The Resistance, am I right?"

My brow arches curiously.

"Confidential." I snap.

He grunts than smiles at me, "I'll cut a deal,"

His voice was heavy with an accent I couldn't place, sounded almost Coruscantian.

He continues, "give me a deposit now and I'll help you, after your little crusade or whatever your here to do is over, we can finish the transaction. Deal?"

"Who says we're here to do anything?" Jeered Finn.

Closing my eyes I mentally glared at him.

The man chuckles humorlessly once more as he lifts his gloved hand to scratch his thin beard. "The Resistance doesn't just come and go without a purpose. You have that in common with The Order."

My eyes snap back open to his in irritation.

'I don't actually need to do deals with mercenary scum bags like you pal'. Is what I actually wanted to say but...

"Deal." I reach out my hand hesitantly and attempt to send him one of my award winning grins. He returned the shake. There are a time and place for making stupid decisions, I'm hoping I didn't just make one.

"Your name?" I ask after our hands disconnect.

"Ragnar."

________________________________

A/N
JUST to make this clear! Ragnar is a personal character, not apart of the franchise. Alright thank you for reading!