"No." The biting tone reverberated as doors to Leia Organa's office opened. The pilot stormed out, his BB unit whirling closely behind him.

"Watch your language, Dameron." The general snapped as she followed after him. Poe knew he was the only one she would allow to walk away without firing them on the spot.

"I just- I don't understand." Poe threw his hands up in the air, attempting to walk slower to allow her to catch up.

"What is there to understand? We are nearing war. This is the only option." Leia hurried to walk beside him, an ever growing frown on her thin mouth as the doors to the cafeteria hissed open.

"They're a dying breed Leia, they couldn't stand a chance against us." The pilot placed his hand against his chest before gesturing to the table he was nearing closer to, harboring both Finn and Rey.

"Would you quite your blasted walking?" The princess huffed, before Poe stopped at his designated table.

"Look, there's probably, what, ten mandalorians left? Why not just wipe them out." Poe suggested as he crossed his arms over his chest. Leia glanced at the patrons of the table they stood next to.

"I would much rather not do this in front of  the others." The general gestured to his friends watchful eyes. Finn was shifting around in discomfort, never one to bask or particularly enjoy attention, while Rey glanced quickly between the two.

"What is this about, General?" Rey questioned, her shoulders tense with apprehension.

"The mandalorians are far more powerful than you can imagine. Sabers barely put a dent in their armor." Poe's eyebrows shot up at the general's words. Sure he knew about mandalorians, but he'd since gathered only rumors.

"I understand, Poe, but you're my only hope. I've heard stories of the man you will marry and I believe only you can be up to the task of being involved in the union."

The pilot sighed dejectedly as the General placed a warm hand on his upper arm, his eyes burrowing holes into his feet.

His words were in a joking tone up until that point. Things were becoming vividly real. He didn't like it. Sure, he could put his life on the line while flying an x-wing, that was easy. You don't ponder about past mistakes when you're making quick life or death decisions. But he guessed reality had a way of catching up to him some how.

"You are like a son to me. I wouldn't resort to this if it weren't necessary, Poe."

Poe Dameron turned his head upwards, looking Leia in the eyes. Her's were filled with pity and sorrow while his were with fear of the unknown.

Why was he the first choice? Someone who was a son to her and she ships him off to a faraway planet full of indestructible metal warriors. Then again, Poe thought bitterly, she didn't have a very good track record with sons.

"Am I in danger?" He asked finally, a hardened look on his face.

"The Mand'alor is a man we know little backstory on, Poe." She sighed.

"Don't dodge my question, Leia." Poe hissed, eyes clouded with grief.

"I don't know." Her eyes didn't meet his.

The dark haired pilot brushed her hand off of him and backed away with a sharp intake of breath, narrowing his eyes at her.

"And you say I'm a son to you?"

"Poe, you know this is the only way. I needed to choose a high-ranking officer or they wouldn't believe it to be genuine." Leia pleaded.

"Would you for once in your life, stop talking politics? Is that all I am to you, a damn pawn in your game of chess?" Poe lowered his voice into a lethal whisper as he pointed a finger at her chest.

"That's not true. I understand that you're angry Poe, but-"

"Stop calling me that! You don't know me." He tightened his hand into a fist, before lowering it to his side.

"Hey, you need to calm down. Don't do something you'll regret." Finn reasoned as he stood up, soon followed by Rey.

"The only thing I regret is ever trusting her." The pilot kept his eyes locked with the general's before he turned to leave the noisy cafeteria.

When he had reached the corridor, his heart was racing, and his ears were ringing. That's odd.

Finn had told him once before of the panic attacks he had endured as a storm trooper, which Poe had never once experienced. This was that, or so he assumed in his panicked state.

This didn't feel right. Poe was always in control. He was a fighter pilot who had been in far worse situations than this.

This didn't feel right. He needed to calm down.

He made it to his quarters, not before bumping into a few shoulders and nearly colliding with a wall.

He placed his forehead on the cool surface of his living area's wall, finally able to breath.

This didn't feel right.