Solo's Jedi ~Poe Dameron/Star Wars ~

Chapter Eight: A Bad Feeling Come True

Call it intuition, or just knowing a bad situation when it's coming, dad was right. That was proven when a distant shriek of a rathtar came closer, and though it was a terrifying sound, I couldn't help but let out a laugh, one my father responded to with a look of disbelief.

"Now it really feels like old times," I offered him a nervous grin, watching as he took his blaster out it's holster, rolling his eyes at me. 

"Don't be getting sentimental, we should probably run," he muttered, though I spotted an exasperated smirk crossing his face. 

His plan of running was flawed though, considering we were still cornered by both Kanjiklub and the Guavian Death Gang, both gangs blocking our escape routes. In a moment of madness, one of them ran over, blaster pointed at my father, and as he attempted to shoot at us both, I quickly deflected both blasts with my saber in one swish movement, knocking them back into his own chest. He fell back onto the floor with a hiss of pain, dying, and I didn't have chance to fully realise that I'd killed someone as both gangs took that display as a signal to attack. They all shouted curses in varying languages and I quickly grabbed hold of my father's arm with my spare hand protectively, forcing him to cover my back whilst I covered his. 

I was fine fighting for a while, adrenaline coursing through me in a way it hadn't done for a long time. It felt right until one gang member fired another shot at me. Except as I deflected it he didn't seem to give up and as he got close I lost my nerve, remembering the last time I fought with my saber, and as the traumatic memories hit I felt myself black out, only to be jolted back to reality, realising that in one sweep of my blade I had taken his head off and he'd fallen down, dead. I flinched, jerking back into my father, stunned by my own action. He would have hurt me, hurt my father and Chewie, but it wasn't the Jedi way to kill someone in such a brutal attack. It was self-defence, but it had taken me back to my past, and I had to fight against my nerves to keep my focus, feeling my chest tighten ever s slightly the way it used to when I'd have a panic attack. 

There wasn't time to lament on it further, Chewie pulling on my arm as we began to force our way past the remaining members of Kanjiklub, closely followed by Bala Tic and his cronies. I took a deep breath, glancing between my father and Chewbacca to ground myself in what was happening around me, pulling myself from the past. I decided I would try and not harm anyone else as brutally, so I focused on deflecting blast shots once more, following my instincts in the force. It was pretty hard to stay focused, however, given the fact that the gangs wre practically biting at our ankles and whenever I looked behind me I could see an almighty rathtar, moving so fast I could barely see it, other than the tentacles that occasionally flailed out to try and grab at its prey.

"Keep moving, kid!" Dad called to me as we ran towards the Falcon together. 

I nodded along with his command, though I was already way ahead of him. I'd been in enough situations like this to know exactly what to do, keeping a fast pace and baring my lightsaber out in front of me. I could have used my blaster too, but I was no good fighting with my left arm, not any more, and considering how fast we were moving and the fact that dad was constantly switching directions would have given me poor aim. Instead I just ran alongside Dad and Chewie, protecting them from any oncoming blasts.

As we rounded another corner, I watched as one of the Guavian Death Gang flew around to meet us face-to-face. I quickly jerked back, holding my saber out in protection of myself, but he didn't get chance to fire at any of us since, as a reflex, Dad slung his fist, hitting him hard in the jaw. The gang member spun from the impact, but Dad grabbed hold of his jacket lapels, tossing him behind us, and before he could recover the Rathtar had gotten hold of him, wrapping him up into its tentacles. I let out a gasp of shock, one that turned to a laugh of amazement, looking at my Dad in utter wonder, feeling like I did as a kid when he was my hero. They may have called him old, but Han Solo still had style, and even with everything we had been through, I was proud to call him my father.