“So that’s the mag-pulse launcher, then?” Rey asks, extending her arm out to where Jess is currently cleaning out a jammed port.
The Resistance pilot nods from where she lays on her back, bringing a hand across her forehead and leaving a trail of engine grease behind it. Without looking up, she continues to use the multi-tool to remove some of the carbon scoring. “It’s a little higher than on the T-65 model.”
Rey smiles, leaning over to see. Their faces are close, but she was pretty sure she left enough room to avoid getting in the older woman’s way. “That, and closer to the ignition sequencers-“
Jess blinks, turning to face her. “You’ve seen a T-65?”
“We had a bunch back on Jakku.” Rey’s cheeks flush, embarrassed, “I tore a lot of them up for scrap.” Jess pales. Rey cringes. “Sorry. Did you used to fly one?”
The pilot shakes her head, “No,” and gets a little red herself. “But I had a few models in my room.”
“Authentic replicas. I only took one out of the packaging.”
Rey has no idea what she’s talking about. But she likes Jess. A lot. And, well, if Jess likes the T-65s… “Maybe we can go some time!” She blurts, and takes a breath, trying to reign in her enthusiasm and desperately failing. “Back to Jakku, I mean. I can show you some of the T-65s, the old A-fighters, the-“
Jess’s eyes widen. “The Y-Wings?”
“Yes, some of those too.”
Jess laughs. “Oh, it’s a date. It’s definitely a date.”
Rey smiles. And Jess grins, going to roll out from underneath her fighter when-
She collides with BB-8 behind her, knocking it over. The droid lets out a panicked, then irritated, series of chirps, wobbling from side to side.
“Sorry, BB-8. I didn’t see you.” Jess mutters.
BB-8 whirls, looking at Rey. Rey shrugs.
“It was an accident, BB-8. Alright?”
BB-8 whirls to Jess.
“Just an accident, I promise.” Jess states, giving a thumb’s up.
BB-8 pauses for a moment, then imitates the gesture before rolling away. Rey shakes her head in amusement, glad that the droid didn’t take offense. But Jess’s jaw drops.
“Did Poe’s astromech just flip me off?”
Rey frowns. “No, BB-8 was just giving you a thumb’s up.”
“Are you sure? It looked like a middle finger.”
“I’m sure. BB-8 imitates people sometimes.”
Jess starts to wipe her hands off on a nearby rag. Rey helps her with the one on her forehead. “…context implies that was a middle finger.”
Rey leans back. “BB-8 wouldnever.”
Jess looks at Rey. Rey looks at Jess. And their voices sound off at the same time:
“Let’s ask someone else.”
“We need another opinion.”
“Finn! Hey, Finn!”
A breathless Rey catches his arm as Finn heads into the mess hall. They bump into each other, with him already half turning to meet her.
He grins, steadying her shoulder. “Whatever it was, it’s not my fault.”
She flashes her own grin back, as they both start walking again. Poe and the lady Rey has been hanging out with more and more lately – Jess? – already have a table, and they zero in on that. Finn doesn’t know Jess that well, but he knows Rey, and he likes the way she lights up when she sees the other woman. If Rey likes her, he likes her; that’s the way their friendship tends to go.
“That depends on your answer to the next question.” The look she gives Jess as they sit down is Very Pointed. “You’ve seen BB-8 do a thumb’s up before, right?”
Finn blinks, a little blindsided by the question. “No?”
Too late, he realises he just dove headfirst into dangerous waters. Not only is Rey looking at him with an expression of complete and utter betrayal, Poe gives him an almost identical look as he sits down next to the pilot. Jess, meanwhile, nudges Rey triumphantly. “I toldyou.”
“Waitwaitwait.” Poe leans forward intently, which would be distracting, if he wasn’t frowning. “What’re you talking about? I’ve seen BB-8 give you a bunch of thumbs up. It happens all the time.”
Finn thinks that maybe if he has a sip of blue milk, people will stop looking at him like he’s about to announce something Super Important. He gives it a shot, but all three of them are still hanging on his next word.
He takes another three sips and carefully tears into a bun. “I mean,” he says, praying briefly for a rescue. Maybe he’ll bump into General Organa somehow. That seems to happen a lot at the wrong moment, maybe it could happen at the right one for once?
But General Organa must be busy running a war effort or something, because she doesn’t come and save him.
“I thought,” he tries, a little desperately. Still nothing. “It was flipping me off?”
Jess lifts her hands and crows a quiet “Yes.” She and Rey devolve almost immediately into their own discussion/battle, so this is clearly something that’s been going on for a while.
Poe, meanwhile, just looks sort of wounded.
“What?” Finn is definitely of the opinion that he has nothing to feel guilty about, but it’s hard not to when faced with That Face. “Come on, man, it’s an established fact that BB-8 isn’t my biggest fan.”
“That’s not true,” Poe says immediately. “BB-8 likes you.”
“BB-8 doesn’t electrocute me anymore,” Finn corrects. “It likesyou.”
“Come on, don’t be like that. It was just a little…suspicious, to begin with. It knows better now. And even if it felt differently – which, it doesn’t – BB-8 would never flip you off.”
“It’s happened like, at least five times.” Finn mimes the arm coming up, his middle finger waving in the air slightly to imply flame. “Just like that.”
Poe’s mouth twitches. Finn’s eyes dip, once, and then ricochet right back up to his face. Stay cool, man. He does tuck his hand back, though.
“Or.” Poe extends his own arm, sticking his thumb up and rotating it upwards, “it’s just like that. BB-8’s a friend, I know what it’s like. You just have to get to know the little droid a little better, okay?”
“Or.” Finn becomes aware that both Rey and Jess have given up on their own discussion and are listening intently to his. “BB-8 wants you to think the best about it, because you’re so important to it. That droid’s got hidden depths, man. Hidden asshole depths.”
Poe, having given up on the thumbs up to fork some food into his mouth, chokes a little. He points at Finn with the utensil. “You’re lucky I like you.”
Finn can’t help but grin back at that. “Yeah, I am.”
They both smile at each other for a moment, and yeah, maybe it’s a little goofy. And then Rey clears her throat, completely breaking the moment.
“That was very cute,” she allows. “But there are more important things at stake here right now. We clearly need to take the BB-8 question higher.”
If there is one man in the entire universe that Rey can trust for guidance, it is Luke Skywalker.
Her Master is an easy person to find on the base. Typically, he keeps to himself, either in his temporary quarters or in the outdoor training fields. Today, she finds him outside, meditating under what looks like a perfectly lovely tree.
To her side, Jess starts smoothing her fingers through her ponytail. She’d begin, swear, and try again–attempting to remove any of the snarls from mechanical work or bumps.
Rey frowns. “What are you doing?”
“We’re about to talk to kriffing Luke Skywalker,” she replies. “About a BB-8.”
Rey smiles, excited. “You mean you haven’t talked to him yet?”
Jess goes red. “Once. For an autograph.”
“That’s not so bad-”
“-on a replica of his fighter-”
“I’m sure he’s used to that-”
“-With an action figure of himself inside. Custom orange flightsuit. Flowing blond hair.”
Rey clears her throat. “Well.” And takes Jess’s hand. “I’m sure he won’t remember.”
She rolls her eyes, but squeezes her hand in return. As soon as they approach, Luke looks up and smiles at Jess.
“Lieutenant Pava. How’s the doll?”
“Kill me,” Jess whispers, before raising her voice. “The doll’s fine!”
“Luke, you’re familiar with astromechs, right?”
He raises an eyebrow, stretching out one of his legs. “A few, yes. Mostly R2. Is something wrong?”
Rey shakes her head, sitting down in front of him. By virtue of their shared hands, Jess follows. “I was hoping you could settle a matter of debate for us.”
Luke looks at his apprentice. Then slowly glances at his largest fangirl. “…Sure.”
Taking a deep breath, Rey begins to explain The Incident, as well as Poe and Finn’s verdicts on the matter. Once she’s done, Luke continues to stare at her.
“I…was on an island for a long time,” he starts.
“But what do you think it was, Luke? A thumb’s up or a middle finger?”
Luke takes an endlessly patient breath. “BB-8 is Poe’s astromech, yes?”
“Then I imagine Poe would understand it best.” Luke takes a moment to think. Then dramatically throws back the sleeve of his Jedi robe, revealing his mechanical hand…
…in a thumb’s up.
“Luke Skywalker says I’m wrong.” Jess’s whisper sounds more appalled then shocked.
He shrugs. “You could also ask Leia.”
Rey looks at Jess. Jess looks at Rey.
“She’s the commander of the Resistance,” Jess protests. Because someone has to.
“…but what if she thinks it’s a middle finger?”
“I know where she has lunch.”
General Leia Organa does not even look up from her nerf burger. “No.”
“But we haven’t even asked you-”
“Intel came across my desk less than ten minutes ago. I know about the BB unit debate.”
Rey looks at Jess. Jess looks at Rey. It is intense, how well informed Leia is about…well, everything.
Rey fidgets a little, pulling at the edges of her sleeve. “So you don’t have an opinion?”
Leia takes a sip of her drink. And sends them an arch look over the lid.
“…Right. It’s a silly debate, anyway.” Rey turns to leave the mess. Jess follows after her-
She halts, swerving on the heel of her boot. “Yes, General Organa?”
Leia dabs at her mouth with a napkin. “It was almost certainly a middle finger.”
Jess beams. “Thank you, General Organa.”
The door closes behind them. Rey sags against the wall. Jess leans next to her, not even bothering to hide the smirk.
“So it’s all tied up. Loser pays for the fuel to Jakku?”
Rey smiles. “Deal.” But then looks instantly troubled.
Jess blinks. “What is it?”
The Jedi in training looks up at the ceiling. Sighs. “We may have to ask an outside party.”
“Really, like who?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
There is a connection between Kylo Ren and the scavenger girl now. Unwanted, unneeded, but present despite all odds. The concept of a Force bond is not unknown to him, although he had not had the expectation of ever encountering one personally.
He imagines it will come in use, in the future. When Luke Skywalker fails to have the answers she craves, the knowledge she seeks. When the Light Side fails to be enough for a girl left abandoned on a skeleton of a planet. He will call to her, and she will answer, and she will come.
Right now, though, it’s just sort of irritating.
What? he snaps finally. He’s not quite sure how to describe the sensation of another mind being present, but saying nothing. Hovering, perhaps.
What are your feelings about BB-8? The thought reaches him in a rush, like she’s not quite certain that she’s actually doing this.
Kylo Ren can empathise.
BB-8, he echoes. The droid.
The droid that the First Order failed to capture, thus ensuring your own awakening in the Force, my subsequent mutilation, and the loss of Luke Skywalker’s location to the Resistance, resulting in the destruction of several years worth of planning on our part.
That’s the one.
He pauses. Behind him, he hears the telltale signs of two Stormtroopers abruptly changing direction. He has not yet ascertained as to why it is their rotations tend to terminate exactly when they’re due to cross his path so often.
I have no feelings on it one way or another.
He can feel her sigh. Good. Exasperation is a first step to anger. Okay, just tell me what you think this droid is doing.
The image of that damned BB-8 unite unfolds in his mind, and gives him a thumbs up. Kylo Ren takes a moment to consider exactly what his life has become, before he starts to walk again.
General Hux, unsurprisingly, doesn’t look pleased to see him.
“What’s this about Resistance intel?” the man bites out, wary and eager at the same time. His hands are tucked neatly behind his back, every hair perfectly in place. If he weren’t completely below his notice, Kylo Ren might had the man.
“A video exemplifying an argument of some importance has made its way into my hands,” he intones, the mask hiding any hint of - well, anything, from his voice. “Your opinion on the matter would prove…invaluable.”
Actually, he just searched for a generic video of a BB-8 unit enacting the motion he had seen from Rey’s point of view, but he doesn’t see the need to tell Hux that. He doesn’t see the need to tell Hux much, now that he thinks of it.
Suspicion seeps into every pore of Hux’s face, but he presses play on the holo Kylo Ren has sent through to his console. His face is a study in disgust as the droid arm extends, the flame lighting. The amount of effort it takes for the man to keep his voice level through his obvious anger would be impressive, if anything about General Hux was impressive whatsoever.
“This is a poor time for you to attempt to gain a sense of humour, Kylo Ren.”
Kylo Ren tilts his mask at the other man. It’s easy to convey his disdain through the mask. He’shad a lot of practice, talking to Hux. “Explain to me the humour in the situation, General. I have discovered the subject of an argument the Resistance feels quite passionate about. Do you mean to tell me you find no use for this information?”
Hux’s entire face moves with his anger, each word clipped off and precise. He rolls his Rs. It’s par for the course, really. “It is a holo of a droid making a vulgar gesture. The wound that child gave you must have rotted your brain.”
Idly, Kylo Ren considers how Hux would fare when faced with Rey. He doubts the other man would come out of the encounter with merely a facial scar.
“That will be all for today, General,” he says simply, and gives Hux his back. The spluttering that follows his exit is most satisfying.
Rey unfolds her body from its meditative pose slowly, searching uneasily for Jess’ face. The other woman’s features swim briefly for a moment, before snapping back into focus.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” she says.
Rey laughs a little, a wild edge to the sound. “Yeah, I probably. Won’t repeat that. The only useful thing I managed to get out of it was that Hux and Ren really don’t like each other.”
Jess kisses her swiftly on the cheek, which turns pretty much instantly red under the touch. Rey knows she’s grinning like a fool, and doesn’t care. “Never underestimate the power of a hole in an enemy’s apparent united front,” the pilot says. “Come on, let’s go tell the General.”
They’re halfway to the General’s quarters when Rey feels Jess’ eyes slide over to her. “So…”
Rey wrinkles her nose. “You know, I thought it’d be funny,” she asserts. “Using that as a distraction. But I’m mostly creeped out that he agreed with me.”
“I think it should count for opposite points if Kylo Ren agrees with it being a thumbs up,” Jess declares.
Rey thinks about protesting, but decides she has a better solution. She shrugs easily, bumping her hip into the other woman’s. “Okay, but General Hux thinks it’s the finger.”
The look of dismay on Jess’ face is worth the whole experience.
“Come on,” Rey laughs. “We’ll report to the general, and then go hunting. It’s time we got some real experts to weigh in on this.”
Leia, it turned out, had found a different place to have lunch after their initial query.
“Maybe it’s a sign,” Jess mutters, running a hand through the ponytail she had finally fixed. “Maybe asking Kylo kriffing Ren was the nail in the figurative coffin here.”
Rey bites the inside of her cheek. “Maybe, but it’s still in a stalemate-”
“Oh, Lieutenant Pava! Miss Rey! I didn’t expect to see you down here in the galley at such an hour. Please, do excuse the mess. By which I mean the residual foodstuffs, of course, and not the actual location as it, too, can be called ‘the mess’ in at least six thousand nine hundred and eighty three languages-”
Jess turns to Rey. Rey turns to Threepio. The droid, of course, doesn’t turn to anyone due to not having a rotatable neck.
The Resistance pilot sighs, looking up. “Worth a shot.”
Rey clears her throat. “Threepio, could you do me a favor?”
The protocol droid shifts from the waist, head tilting into a slight angle. “Certainly, Miss Rey. Provided it is within my programming to do so.”
“We need help settling a debate.” Jess jams her hands into the pockets of her flightsuit.
C3P0′s eyes light up in a most literal way. “Wonderful! I am a designated mediation droid within four systems, you know.”
Jess looks at Rey, who shrugs. Apparently they don’t know.
“Uh, great. So…” Jess patiently explains the events of the afternoon as they pertained to BB-8′s gesture, making the suitable motions to mimic the action. “What do you think, thumbs up or middle finger?”
C3PO’s head jerks up. “If you’ll allow me a disclaimer before I present viable options, Lieutenant Pava?”
“Sure. Why not.”
“It is by no means uncommon knowledge that the BB model is a droid not suitable toward most dignified and subtle interactions with organic lifeforms.” Threepio swivels. “For such endeavors it is, of course, far more beneficial to enlist the services of a protocol droid such as myself. I am fluent in more than two billion forms of non-verbal communication as well as seven billion languages-”
“Thumb’s up. Or middle finger.”
The droid pauses, deep in contemplation. “I hesitate to draw conclusions, Lieutenant Pava. You see, such a decision would undoubtedly have severe consequences regarding the perception of BB units, if not droids as an entire population!”
Jess feels the strong, intense need to take this droid’s lunch credits. Luckily, Rey has an easier manner when communicating with non-organics. She smiles her ridiculously cute smile, leaning forward with her hands held behind her back.
“We’d really like your opinion on this, Threepio.”
The droid, who always seems to look appalled, takes a step backward. “I apologize Miss Rey. Truly. But I simply must not speak for the mannerisms of one BB unit in isolation-”
“Should we get Artoo, then?”
“Why yes,” C3P0 states, sounding shocked that Rey has come to such a conclusion without being a certified mediator in four systems, “That could most certainly serve as a compromise!”
“Okay. Let’s find him.”
R2-D2 is where he always is, zooming around between people’s legs. C3P0 pushes past the two women, constantly bent arms waving in the air.
“Artoo this is not the suitable behavior we’ve agreed upon–”
The astromech gives a series of beeps. Rey’s eyes widen at the vulgarity.
“How dare you! After all we’ve been through-!”
More beeps and chirps. Rey’s hand actually goes to cover her mouth.
“Of course not! You and I both know the mechanics of that are impossible! Now shut up you bucket of bolts and listen–it’s a matter of intergalactic diplomacy!”
R2-D2 stills his rolling, it’s top dome swerving to look at Rey, then Jess. It gives a low croon, seeming to apologize.
“Well I suppose that’s a start,” C3P0 sniffs, resting his arm on top of him. “Now stay still as Lieutenant Pava recants her tale.”
“Right. Recant.” She shakes her head, once again going over the motion. R2-D2, having a welding torch as well, helps to provide a reenactment.
C3P0 scoffs. “Why, that’s most certainly a thumb’s up. I’d bet my miserable life on it.”
Jess sneaks a glance at Rey. That’s…dire.
R2-D2 lets off a series of angry, contradictory beeps– his vote is clearly for the middle finger.
C3P0 slams his arm on the shorter astromech. “By the Maker, Artoo! Just because you’re an uncouth devil doesn’t mean that all astromechs share such deplorable behavior-”
Rey’s shoulders slump. This isn’t going to get them anywhere.
R2-D2 whistles, head spinning around. C3P0 leans back, aghast.
“How dare you bring my software into this! You know I’m sensitive about such things ever since I brought you to see my motherboard-”
Jess sneaks an arm around Rey’s waist, pulling her back from the bickering droids. “Let’s call this one a draw.”
Rey’s stomach drops to her feet. “You don’t want to go anymore?”
“What?” Jess’ eyes widen, before she shakes her head. Emphatically. “No. No! I mean - yes, I do want to go. I was just thinking we could go halves in the fuel. Seeing as neither of us really won.”
Her stomach abruptly reverses trajectory, slamming back into place. It still feels a little off kilter, but in the best possible way. “Yeah.” She bumps the other woman’s hip gently with her own. “Okay. That sounds nice. I’m just sad I couldn’t get you to…see…”
She trails off, staring at something just past Jess’ shoulder.
“Rey?” The amusement in the other woman’s voice turns quickly to worry, as she waves a hand in front of Rey’s face. “Hey. Hey, are you in there? Oh man, this is to do with you getting in touch with that maniac Kylo Ren, isn’t it? I knew that was a bad idea–”
“I think,” Rey says slowly, carefully taking Jess’ hand out of midair and giving it a reassuring squeeze, “that I’m seeing things.”
It’s not that reassuring. Neither are the two, glowing blue men standing beyond Jess.
One of them reminds her a little of Master Luke, between the hair and the beard, although this man’s is a little more…controlled. He stands half turned towards her, one glowing blue hand pinching a glowing blue nose, as the other man gestures widely.
…She’s pretty sure sure recognises one of those gestures.
“Oh no,” she whispers, clapping a hand to her mouth. It doesn’t help stop the giggle.
“Rey!” Jess’ face looms in front of hers, two hands on her shoulders shaking her. “You’re freaking me out here, what’s happening?”
“I think,” Rey whispers, “that we accidentally got the Force itself involved in this.”
Jess turns to stare at what must be empty space for her, before glancing back at Rey. “Are there…people there?”
Rey nods. “Two of them.” She can’t help it. She creeps a little closer. As she does so, the details of the second man reveal themselves. His hair is longer, curls at the ends. He wears impatience on his face openly, and there’s a scar running down the side of it. He’s definitely giving the other man the finger.
“Look!” the man with the scar insists, using his other hand to draw a wonky outline around the gesture. “The ball at the end of the rod clearly represents the way your hand balls up when you do this. The flame comes out of the middle. The blue flame, which is hotter, so–”
“Anakin,” the first man sighs. “What colour are we?”
Every muscle in Rey’s body freezes up, because she knows that name. Knows the story behind it. Had not, actually, ever expected to meet its owner, seeing as he was dead.
“That,” Anakin Skywalker says, jabbing a finger at the other man, “is not the point, and you know it.”
“No, I’d argue that is exactly the point. Dividing good and evil along the lines of colour is, perhaps, a tad simplistic, but you can’t deny the truth of it. Blue represents peace, co-operation. Of the two gestures, a thumbs up would be vastly more likely to fall into that category. As for your little demonstration–” The man shakes a hand out of his voluminous sleeve, extending his arm. “You’ll note that the droid pivots the rod like so, before it completes the gesture.” His thumb sticks out the side, turns right side up. “As you can see, my fist effectively forms the same ball. Viewed directly, the thumb extends from the middle, as the flame does from the droid. Which, you should note, is a notoriously pleasant and congenial unit, unlike some I might think of.”
“Um.” Rey clears her throat. “Excuse me?”
Both men pause, turning to face her. The man - whose identity she is beginning to guess - smiles at her, and a knot of nervousness in the back of her neck unties itself. Anakin continues to scowl, but it doesn’t seem quite as intense directed at her as it did when he was looking at the other man. In fact, she’d almost call it sullen.
“Rey.” The bearded man’s tone changes instantly from peeved, to warm. She can’t help but smile in response. “I’m sorry, this is terribly rude of both of us. Not how I’d intended to introduce myself at all.”
“You’re Obi Wan,” she blurts. Behind her, Jess squeaks. “Aren’t you?”
“And you…think that BB-8′s giving a thumbs up?”
“He’s wrong,” Anakin interjects. He doesn’t seem bothered about Obi Wan rolling his eyes, but something about him hesitates when Rey shifts her attention to him. “Look. I know droids, okay? They have an attitude sometimes. It’s not a bad thing. Gives them some personality.”
“Is that what you call it?” Obi Wan mutters.
“Yes, because I’m not biased, unlike some people.”
“You quite literally just said that you think all droids are–”
“That’s not literally what I said at all, I said sometimes–”
“I think,” Rey says loudly, “that I might leave you guys to it?”
They both turn to look at her again, and then back to each other. For a moment, she thinks they might give up the argument.
“It moved back the last time it did it, it’s clearly antagonistic!”
“I’m right and you know it!”
Still holding hands with Jess, Rey makes her escape. She recounts the whole experience back in her quarters. “There is,” she finishes up, “way more weirdness to this whole being a Jedi thing than I ever expected.”
She’s a little nervous. She likes Jess - a lot - but she’s also aware that it’s not every girl who goes around contacting dark force users with their minds and seeing visions of long dead Jedi in random halls.She wouldn’t blame the other woman for thinking she was biting off more than she could chew.
“Way more weirdness,” Jess agrees. Seeing Rey’s slightly stricken look, she rolls her eyes, smiling. “You think I signed up to become a pilot for the Resistance because I was looking for normal?”
That, Rey thinks, is the best argument she’s heard all day.
“Still,” Jess sighs after a beat. “I can’t believe that the Obi Wan Kenobi andthe Anakin Skywalker rose from the sort-of-dead to say their piece about this stupid problem, and we’re still totally tied.”
Rey laughs. “Okay, what if we just ask one more person? Any random person. No more experts or impartial observers. First one we find, and that’s it, we’re done.”
Matt the Radar Technician was having a normal freaking day until these two idiots showed up.
“Hey,” asks the girl who has three buns in her hair, “Are you busy?”
“Yeah I’m busy,” Matt the Radar Technician mutters, trying to find his wrench. “Because we’re at war.”
“Mind helping us solve a debate?” Asks the one who’s clearly a pilot jockey, because only a pilot would act like this sort of bantha fodder mattered.
Matt only rolls his eyes, and they both start talking about complete nonsense. Something about a BB-8, a hand gesture, Force ghosts, a general, and a bet about going to Jakku (who even wants to go to Jakku?). He tunes them out. He can’t find his wrench. He thinks those jerkbutts up on flight deck kicked it away again.
“What do you think?” Comes the younger one.
Matt the Radar Technician looks up, blond hair falling over his glasses.
“I think we’re in space.” He looks further up, so they can see his Incredulousness. “So none of this matters. And don’t touch my wrench!”
The girl with the buns gently sets it down on the ground, looking guilty.
BB-8′s head jerks up eagerly at the sound of its master’s voice. It wheels over to Poe as fast as possible, nudging gently against the man’s knees as it beeps a greeting.
“Yeah, it’s good to see you, too.” The position of Poe’s mouth indicates happiness, pleasure. The probability is high that this is because he is - like he says - glad to see BB-8. “How’s it going?”
BB-8 considers the question for a moment, before trilling uncertainly.
“So-so? Why so-so?”
In a flurry of Binary, BB-8 unleashes its concerns on Poe. About how everyone seems to have been talking about a BB-8 unit that day, and how it’s worried that the BB-8 unit in question is it, and how it might have done something wrong, and how it’s very sorry if that is the case.
“Hey, hey.” Poe flicks BB-8′s antenna in a gesture it categorises as fond. “Calm down, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. It’s just a silly debate Rey and Jess are having about what you mean when you use your welding torch.”
BB-8 beeps. Poe laughs.
“Usually welding something, okay, I’ll make sure to let them know.” The human sits back for a moment, squinting down at the droid. “Is it a thumbs up, or the finger? I mean, I think it’s the first one, but it’s cool if it’s not. Whatever makes you happy, buddy.”
BB-8 whirs. Not Binary, just a sound to pass the time. It tilts its head to one side, regarding Poe carefully for a moment.
And then it extends its welding torch, and lights the flame.