albinomilksnake | STAR WARS: possible spoiler warning

[Even if she didn't understand BB-8 and even if the familiarity wasn't obvious between the two of them, the astromech droid's series of excitable trills would've told her enough. As it is, with light years worth of stories between here and Jakku relayed from the droid about his ace pilot Resistance friend combined with what she's heard from Finn-- well, she thinks she has a pretty good grasp of the situation.]

Oh. [Her eye drops from him back to the work in front of her. She secures the braid, wraps it around one of the port posts and runs the wire from point a to point b. Strips the end of the wire and then wraps and starts braiding that into place too.] I didn't do anything on my own. If it was up to me, BB-8 and I would still be on Jakku.

[Simple as that. Well, partly--] Until he convinced me to get him off world anyway. [She shoots BB-8 a quick glance, eyebrow quirking, hands never stopping.]

[BB-8 swivels its head around, tilting it back to look up at Poe, then back to Rey. The next chirps and whistles are a confirmation that leaving Jakku was necessary, and a fortunate necessity at that. Without Rey's help, where would they be? Not just BB-8, or Poe, but the entire Resistance?

There really wasn't a best case scenario other than the one they were living.]

[She's not quite what he was expecting, although if pressed he's not sure he knows what he expected. She'd just won them a huge victory though, and found a place among some of the best. Not that it meant much if you didn't want to be there. And not like it had been easy. Still.]

Have to agree with you, pal. [His tone is soft, close to gentle. Fond around the edges.]

Besides, none if us do it on our own. We're a team. I'm glad you joined up.

[Her braiding doesn't slow, but she does twitch her face back toward them by a half degree-- She wants to say... What? That she's glad too, maybe. Or that she wishes she'd never had to come - not because it wasn't necessary, just wishing the circumstances had been different so they'd never had to be put into the position where she was ever on the Millennium Falcon, that Starkiller Base had never existed in the first place, that no one had to get injuries or killed even if it meant that she wasn't here and hadn't met him or BB-8 or Han Solo or Finn.

But that doesn't really matter. She's here now - they all are - and that means... doing what needs to be done. How being glad fits into that she isn't sure (it would be easier to feel that way if some things were different), but-- she blinks rapidly. She sets her jaw. She wishes Finn was here and not laid out on a cot in the base below them. She wishes--]

Sure. [She finishes braiding. She measures, cuts and strips another wire. Starts work on that one too.] You're friends with Finn, right?

[BB-8 trusts Poe to be able to answer that question himself, and decides instead to try and best estimate the next tool or item Rey needs next. The droid rolls around, beeping softly to itself as it peruses the scattered bits and bobs before settling on grabbing a roll of insulating tape and bringing it back to set next to the coil of wire.]

[Charm got him most places. Not everywhere, but when it didn't he didn't feel the need to push. He wasn't nice to break people down. So the fact she isn't open as a door for him doesn't bother him much. Her sideways glances and short answers were hers.

Still, he smiles at the question. He isn't often known as someone else's friend first. His fame tended to reach even further than his parents at this point. It was kind of nice, just being Por Dameron, Finn's friend.

He sidesteps as the Droid as he goes to get tape, shifting to the other side of the deck as he watches him process. BB-8 was a good little Droid. Capable and clever. A great pal. It was nice to have him back.]

Yeah, I'd like to think so. He's a good guy, helped me out when I was in a real bind.

[And he kept the jacket. It was sweet.]

How many more days do you figure she'll be grounded? Seems like the two of you are getting pretty far.

Thank you. [Said small to the droid for the tape. She picks at it until she finds the seam, pinches the end and strips a long piece from the roll with an obnoxious shrrrk!]

The two of us and every other Resistance mechanic. [It's clipped, habitually brusque. She looks at him over the curve of the roll and bites the strip of tape free.] Until tomorrow, I think. Early. The ion impulse regulator's still offline, so there's a half day on that to get the rear drive back in shape.

[And then she's wrapping the stripoed section of wire with insulation tape - quick and efficient and as even coverage as it needs to be.]

[BB-8 is two seconds too late popping a cutting tool out of one of his silver panels, intending to help by cutting the insulation tape to length, but Rey has already torn through it with her teeth. The droid looks between Rey and its extended arm before warbling something akin to oh...neeeevermind and retracting the outstretched tool.

He starts to do another pass around the deck to find the next useful thing, but remembers something and stops mid-way. Wobbling a bit side to side, he chirps and whistles, reminding Rey that it'd be worth running diagnostics on the hyperdrive. Artoo seemed to think it'd save everyone a lot of trouble.]

[That little bit of gratitude goes a long way in making his impression of her even more positive. Plenty of people didn't treat druids with much respect or appreciation. Like they thought since it was their job they didn't deserve consideration.]

Quick. Where'd you learn to fix ships?

[He crouches down then, hand to the top of BB's head. Gently swivels it with his palm, smiling easily.]

Well pal, seems like you could manage that.

[If BB-8 had eyelids--or eyes, for that matter--he'd be blinking at Poe.

Of course he could manage a diagnostics run on the hyperdrive, in theory. It's just a matter of finding the right port. He is an astromech, after all. But the Falcon is nothing like the X-wings he's used to interfacing with; it's older, and bigger, and BB-8 is rather small. The droid makes half a beep, the start of a response, before stopping suddenly.

He stares at Poe for another moment, then swivels his head sharply towards Rey, stares, swivels back. Repeats this motion a few times, dubiously. But of course, if Poe wasn't here to help, or to talk about Important Things...

BB-8 chirps, if you say so, and rolls off towards the cockpit, which seems like the most logical place to have a port for the hyperdrive.]

[It's a perfectly fair suggestion and a good place to start work next, really. They'd need the hyperdrive in perfect working order and part of her, the part intimately familiar with the modifications the Falcon had been settled with, wants to check it herself. But-- BB-8 knows what he's doing and anything that pings back wrong she can check. More than likely half the fixes that needed to be made would be out of the droid's reach anyway. Inconvenient, she thinks, putting so many access panels in the ship's subfloor where he couldn't easily reach.

But she also doesn't miss the droid's moment of indecision. That has her squinting, brow lowering by a degree. She looks between the two of them and slowly secures the last wire with the insulation tspe as BB-8 rolls off.]

I took a lot of things apart on Jakku. [She unsticks her fingers and fits the cover back onto the eletrical compartment. Easy enough. Hefting herself out of the hatch, Rey squirms along the grating and eventually gets a foot under herself. Her hands are black with grease and there's a smudge on her cheek from where she bumped it across her hand while using her teeth on the tape.] This is just doing it the other way around.

[Maybe, if they were alone, he would play up how insulted he was. Ask what the little Droid was suggesting. But they weren't, and he doubted very much she'd be the kind of girl to find that sort of thing cute. Instead he shoots BB-8 an aborted little salute as he rolls into the cockpit.

He did want her alone, to be fair. To be more fair, his intentions were far from impure.]

Hey- [He turns his face back to her as she pulls herself up, moving with a kind of practiced ease that made it clear nothing about what she'd said was false. The expression on his face shifts into something a little more serious, not quite the focus he applied to piloting, nothing quite so sharp, but without any veneer.]

You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but if you ever want to talk about what happened- you know, when they captured you, I'm here. I figure if someone else would get it-

[He shrugs soft. Easy, slides his gaze off to give her time to think. He'd been thinking about it. A bit. He hadn't spoken to anyone else about it, even though they'd tried. And they probably would have kept trying if things hadn't been so desperate. If the General wasn't so wrapped up, she'd probably have insisted.

But everyone had bigger things to worry about. Him too, when he wasn't sleeping.]

[If there's something she expects from a stranger-- from a friend of Finn's, sure, but still just a man in an orange jumpsuit and an inflatable pilot's jacket --, it's not that. It catches her off guard, has her blinking: away and then back at him, something wide and open in her expression.

What does she know about Poe Dameron? That he was a friend of Finn's. That he was BB-8's master. That he was an excellent pilot. That something had happened to him on Jakku, and then he'd almost died but he-- hadn't. What's he suggesting, exactly? She leans down, catches the grating and wrenches it back into place to cover the access channel.]

You were captured?

Edited 2015-12-28 07:59 (UTC)

[He is, in a way, surprised she doesn't know. But then again, would it be the first thing Finn told his new friend? That his old friends- that's unfair. They weren't any friends of his- captured and tortu- that they took the information from him they needed and we're going to kill him before he helped him escape?

No, not good conversation. Not for anyone. So her surprise makes sense. That very young look on her face.]

Yeah. That's where I met Finn. They uh- wanted the map, and I was the last person who had it. Before BB-8.

[Wrong place, wrong time. Or wrong man. He'd given them what they wanted eventually. Even though he was supposed to be the best man for the job. The only mission he'd ever failed. If it weren't for Finn, and this girl. Rey. The new Jedi.]

He's not a very gracious host.

[He figures it's obvious enough who he means. Kylo Ren. The General's only son. A ghost that haunted the halls of the Resistance as long as he'd been a part of it.]

[Kylo Ren. That's the only person he could mean, the only person who had tried to ply her for what she knew of the map. He's the last person she wants to think about - his face, his hand on his lightsaber, the shape of him on the bridge set against Han Solo's before, how he'd looked at her past his outstretched hand with his fingers twitching like he wanted her throat more than what lay inside her head. It makes her blood run cold, prickles the small hairs at the back of her neck. Some part of her goes swimming at the thought of him - untethered and wild and viciously angry for a hundred things including, maybe, the part where he must have hurt Finn's friend Poe Dameron. It puts a bitter taste in her mouth like standing too near an ion coil. She blinks rapidly. Something behind her eyes stings and she doesn't want to think about what that is.]

No. He isn't.

[She bends, fetches the roll of insulating tape from the deck, and moves with purpose toward the cockpit after BB-8.]

[He wants to ask her. He wants to ask if she talked. Like the shuttering hot and cold expression on her face wasn't enough for him. Even though he told her she didn't have to say anything.

She didn't. She didn't, not like him. If she had the First Order would have what they wanted. They wouldn't be waiting for the falcon to be fixed. They'd send their fastest pilot- him, and Leia would trust him with it even if- to bring Luke back before Kylo Ren and his master found him. So she didn't talk.

It should be easier to accept that it was just how it was. She was a Jedi, and he was just a damn fine pilot.

He doesn't say anything. Just let's her pass before he stands to trail after her, expression falling back into place. She'd talk to him if she wanted to. He'd offered, at least.]

[BB-8 is just trundling through the door as Rey moves to enter the cockpit, a combination of variables that results in a slight collision. BB-8 isn't moving fast enough to even knock Rey off balance, though the droid itself rocks backwards slightly after the impact with her legs, making a high pitched sound of surprise.

Tilting his head back, he looks up at Rey and trills a brief apology before moving aside. He did manage to find a port through which to interface with the Falcon, and discovered that the hyperdrive is in good condition, though needs some calibration, according to the ship's computer. He conveys this in a drawn out series of warbles and whistles, his head rotating to look towards the instrument panel, then back towards Rey and Poe.

Nuanced facial expression isn't something a droid can even attempt, and as such the droid just appears to stare blankly, more so at Poe than Rey.]

[The collision is, all things considered, totally minor - at least half her own fault. Rey makes a short noise of surprise, throwing her hands out to catch the droid though he's already rolled back, twisting away to accodomate her presence (and Poe's) in the small space.]

Good work, BB-8. [She's stepping around him, climbing into the co-pilot's seat to access one of the secondary panels. The blasé way she pulls up the panel's facing has everything to do with being comfortable with the components and nothing to do with an eagerness to leave the subject of Kylo Ren behind.]

This will be easier with three pairs of hands anyway. [She pushes her hand into the exposed circuits and wiring, feeling around with a pinched look on her face that smooths when her hand closes on-- there. Rey drags a square box and its countless attachments out into the open.]

BB-8, you take that-- [and then she's climbing over to stand on the other seat, popping a panel overhead. Reaching in, she's barely tall enough to find what she needs to.] --Here. Poe, I need your hand there. There's a lever. BB-8 can tell you when to crank it.

[He's well clear of the doorway when the two collide, as mild as it is, and he's not surprised to find the Droid successful- excited in it. He was a good partner, after all.]

Knew you could handle it.

[praise comes easy to him, even now, smile genuine enough even for someone who knew him well, and BB-8 certainly did.]

Aye-aye captain. [He sidesteps the Droid, easing into the space beside her, arm high to catch his hand where she'd pointed. He was no mechanic, but he was used to being an extra hand. Helpful was his middle name, and the x-wings were part of his squad, their state part of his responsibility.

Maybe he was nosy.]

Found it.]

Edited 2015-12-28 20:10 (UTC)

[There is a brief moment after Rey says "three pairs of hands" when BB-8 tilts his head down, as if looking at the hands he doesn't have, but as soon as the secondary panel is off, the droid simply rolls over to it to do his job.

After setting himself up with the box that Rey had pulled out of the mass of wires and circuitry, BB-8 beeps and whistles, double-checking that Rey is where that third pair of hands would be needed before starting a countdown to when Poe has to pull the lever.]

[Once she's certain he has the right lever, she's hopping down from the chair and making her way to-- yes, there, the primary maintenance panel is just there. She levers it open as well as BB-8 begins the countdown, sorting through fuses and wiring and coordinator compression boxes. Somewhere in here there's...]

There you are.

[She wrenches free the component she's looking for, turning it out from under a nest of wiring so she can see what she's doing. There's some tuning she can do during the countdown to the lever pull, but once the moment nears she readjusts, finds the right switch and waits, waits, waits--

And throw it in time with the pair of them to very little fanfare. Which is, technically, a good sign.]

[He keeps his fingers on the lever but cranes his head to watch her progress and the Droid's, only wrangling his focus back down tight when BB-8 gets close to the final countdown. His timing doesn't suffer any, and he cranks it at just the right time, raising his eyebrows when, apparently, nothing happens.]

Is that good? That's good, right? Right lever?

[From her to BB-8 and back again, fingers still hurried in the panel above his head.]

[BB-8 takes the opportunity of being interfaced with the Falcon to double check that everything--or at least everything he could detect--is functional, letting Poe's question hang in the air unanswered for a moment.

Then, without preamble, the droid warbles: You want to go into hyperspace to test it?

That indelible lack of nuanced expression is what BB-8 is counting on for the joke to succeed. He stares at Poe blankly.]

[It's good. She knows it is exactly in the moment. There's no smoke or sparks, for one, but she can feel how the hum in the box component she has changed by a degree under her hands. It's subtle, small, but she knows in her gut that it's right. That she was right. That they're on track. That they all know what they're doing here--

More or less.

She breathes out a noise that isn't a laugh for the droid's sense of humor, but is close - her mouth going all pinched and crooked, smile lost somewhere out of habit and recent low spirits. Rey jams the component back under the wiring, secures it, and then flips the panel closed.]

It's good. Between this and clearing out all the junk Plutt stuffed in, there shouldn't be any trouble staying inside hyperspace for as long as necessary. Right, BB-8?

[His hand stays firmly where it is even as the Droid teases, but as soon as Rey gives him the go ahead he drops it to point, very straight, at BB-8.]

Don't tempt me. This is the Millennium Falcon. Made the Kessel run in under twelve Parsecs. She may be a bit big for my tastes but this girl can move.

[It is a small bit of hero worship on his part. What kid who grew up on the stories of the rebellion against the evil empire didn't dream about getting to see the Millennium Falcon? To meet the heroes of the rebellion? He's grown up knowing they were real, that his parents were a part of it, but he'd never seen the Falcon in person. A tree back home in the yard was the closest he got to the legends until he'd been old enough to sign on.

He tips his head back to her catching up with the rest.]

Junk?

STAR WARS: possible spoiler warning

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