Poe chuckled. "Relax. BB-8 isn't going to let us suddenly blast off. Fairly sure 'thrown from an x-wing while training' is a bit too ignoble an epitaph, even for me."
He shifted, reaching across Finn to tap at a little screen.
"This is the altitude meter. Once you're above the atmosphere, the readout will switch to your proximity radar. These-" He shifted again, bumping his elbow against the side of Finn's head while he did so, "-- Are your primary weapon systems - your blasters. And this--" He leaned down to flip up the cap on the joystick, "Is how you arm your proton torpedoes."
It's not a stretch for Finn, having to pick things up with only minimal understanding. Most First Order cadets went through hell learning how to latch on their armor, let alone handle new weaponry or scenarios during combat simulations, and the obligation of leading FN squad was always an exercise in adaptability. This, though - this is nicer. Something more to do with current company rather than how tense he is all the way up through his shoulders until Poe's talking him down.
Doesn't even mind getting clipped by the edge of Dameron's arm when he leans forward, the both of them half-jammed against a bucket seat designed for one.
"Uh-huh. Got it." Focused, attentive to a near razor sharp point, Finn's clearly mapping out the visual landmarks for each and every one of the vital systems as they run down the list.
--at least until he hears the x-wing breathe somewhere off behind them, low and groaning, like something snoring in its sleep. Snaps his head around without warning, nearly butting his face right into the bulk of Poe's shoulder
He manages to avoid being smacked by Finn's face by pulling back quickly, with a bemused look.
"That's the arming sequence," He said as if he had not just armed torpedoes in the middle of a Resistance base, with dozens of bystanders. He lets Finn believe it for a couple of seconds before giving him a lopsided smile. "Haven't actually loaded up any torpedoes, since the last run, so there's nothing to arm, but that's what you'd hear, anyway."
He couldn't help himself, and rubbed a hand over Finn's short cropped hair. He wasn't much of a flight instructor - preferred to do the flying rather than teaching someone else to - but Finn was an exception. And this was better than just hovering over the ex-stormtrooper while he recovered. Having Finn up and about was a massive relief, even if Rey hadn't returned yet.
Sure, there were simulations for this kind of thing, but this was more fun.
"Right, so once they arm, the targeting computer pops up," he said as it did so, sliding into place. "If it's a large target, don't bother, it just gets in the way. But if you need pin point precision, as long as your droid knows what you need to hit, it'll feed in the targeting for you. Isn't that right, BB-8?"
"You--" He's somewhere between bewildered and indignant, just before he realizes that his guard is the butt of the joke. Eases off with a groan, and instead of turning back towards the paneling up front in one smooth gesture, knocks his head back so that it's pressed right into Poe's chest. Exhales once, eyes shut.
Doesn't open his eyes again before muttering, pointedly, "Yup. Got it. Targeting computer does what you need it to."
Poe grins as the weight of Finn's head presses against his chest and he raises a hand to ruffle his hair fondly.
"You're doing fine," He assures him - the sentiment not needing to be voiced for Poe to feel it. "Just let me know if you'd rather go get some target practice instead of having me try to turn you into a flyboy."
It's an affectionate little noise that Finn makes in response, tongue to his teeth and some entirely lopsided grin settled there in spite of all the faux disinterest he'd tried to feign just a few seconds prior. Crinkles his nose and ducks his head to shake it-- and Poe's palm-- off, though he's still smiling by the end of it.
Poe Dameron's a charismatic man. More than that, he's a good man, and he's one of the only people in the entire universe Finn trusts completely.
"Hey you know me - shooting's what I'm here for."
If the X-wings were bigger, maybe reconfigured more like the tie fighters back on base, there wouldn't be any nervousness on Finn's part: Poe could fly, he could shoot, and they'd wreck the opposition like there was no tomorrow.
blushes fiercely!!
He shifted, reaching across Finn to tap at a little screen.
"This is the altitude meter. Once you're above the atmosphere, the readout will switch to your proximity radar. These-" He shifted again, bumping his elbow against the side of Finn's head while he did so, "-- Are your primary weapon systems - your blasters. And this--" He leaned down to flip up the cap on the joystick, "Is how you arm your proton torpedoes."
Did the ship just make an odd revving sound?
no subject
Doesn't even mind getting clipped by the edge of Dameron's arm when he leans forward, the both of them half-jammed against a bucket seat designed for one.
"Uh-huh. Got it." Focused, attentive to a near razor sharp point, Finn's clearly mapping out the visual landmarks for each and every one of the vital systems as they run down the list.
--at least until he hears the x-wing breathe somewhere off behind them, low and groaning, like something snoring in its sleep. Snaps his head around without warning, nearly butting his face right into the bulk of Poe's shoulder
"--what was that?"
no subject
"That's the arming sequence," He said as if he had not just armed torpedoes in the middle of a Resistance base, with dozens of bystanders. He lets Finn believe it for a couple of seconds before giving him a lopsided smile. "Haven't actually loaded up any torpedoes, since the last run, so there's nothing to arm, but that's what you'd hear, anyway."
He couldn't help himself, and rubbed a hand over Finn's short cropped hair. He wasn't much of a flight instructor - preferred to do the flying rather than teaching someone else to - but Finn was an exception. And this was better than just hovering over the ex-stormtrooper while he recovered. Having Finn up and about was a massive relief, even if Rey hadn't returned yet.
Sure, there were simulations for this kind of thing, but this was more fun.
"Right, so once they arm, the targeting computer pops up," he said as it did so, sliding into place. "If it's a large target, don't bother, it just gets in the way. But if you need pin point precision, as long as your droid knows what you need to hit, it'll feed in the targeting for you. Isn't that right, BB-8?"
The droid whistled happily from behind them.
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Doesn't open his eyes again before muttering, pointedly, "Yup. Got it. Targeting computer does what you need it to."
Worst student of the year: Finn by a landslide.
no subject
"You're doing fine," He assures him - the sentiment not needing to be voiced for Poe to feel it. "Just let me know if you'd rather go get some target practice instead of having me try to turn you into a flyboy."
Or, you know, drinks. That would be fine too.
no subject
Poe Dameron's a charismatic man. More than that, he's a good man, and he's one of the only people in the entire universe Finn trusts completely.
"Hey you know me - shooting's what I'm here for."
If the X-wings were bigger, maybe reconfigured more like the tie fighters back on base, there wouldn't be any nervousness on Finn's part: Poe could fly, he could shoot, and they'd wreck the opposition like there was no tomorrow.