The small committee waiting by the comm station was a mixed bag. Finn made out the General and Luke Skywalker, Rey and BB-8, one or two bemused technicians. All ominously silent, although Rey waved to him.
"General Organa was the first to speak. "Something rather inordinary happened overnight."
Finn stared his query.
"As you know, we make a point of screening nearly all of our comms-out. With our closest allies, we have an open, if strictly monitored channel. All other communications are one-sided – we send anonymous messages, so to say, in blind trust that they will be received and acted upon."
"Yes, General."
"However, Rey came to me yesterday with a suggestion. One that would enable us to code out if we were transmitting from any chosen location – say, the Kurdan Desert –with no chance whatsoever of detection. The answer would be relayed back to us through a similar protocol."
At this point, the mude Jedi broke into speech. "One small step for a Rey," he said. "One giant leap for the Resistance."
"It’s nothing much, actually." Rey beamed on them all. "Just trick the interlink into a reverse…"
General Organa raised her hand. "I asked Rey to place a maiden call. An innocuous one, on the off-chance her stratagem might fail. The answer went through thirty minutes ago." She motioned to one of the techs, who pushed a few buttons. A screen lit up with the message. "It appears to come from one, ah, Hutt & Smutt corporation."
Finn, who had been trained to ascertain all worst-case scenarios and meet them upfront, did not blush. But he did feel as if Death Star II had been a small order, all things considered.
"The answer is for you, Lieutenant Finn. It’s only fair that you should access it."
Finn looked over at the screen. It still felt unreal, as if he’d woken up to find that his story, the darling of his heart, had only been part of a greater, vastly wider scheme, that was its own authors and rode its twists and cliffhangers while he stood by, a dazed witness. His heart pounding, he let his eyes skim over tight-knit,titillating prose and a refreshing approach of the homoerotic plot, paused at we would, given its incomplete status, be amenable to a series and winced only once, when the letter mentioned options, royalties, and interpretative dances on cantina nights.
Then he came to the offer proper, and his eyes widened.
He turned back to face Leia Organa, his face urgent. "If I do this, will you take the credits? Winter’s coming. And we’ll need more fighters. And I don’t have an account, anyway."
"I will, if you let me return it." Then suddenly she smiled, though her eyes remained under a clear wistful haze. "It’s much the safer bet, life taught me, to repay your debts without delay."
There was silence again, but no longer tense; a donation to Leia, a gift to remembrance. It was only interrupted when another figure strode in, his helmet under his arm. "General," Poe Dameron said. He gave her an impeccable salute and the rest of the room a bold wink. "May I borrow Finn for an hour? My X-wing awaits his early morning lesson."
"Oh, yes, yes." General Organa, startled out of her daze, touched her coronet braid. "Rey, you do remember Commander Dameron, don’t you? He’s our flying head-of-command."
Finn, with brusque and unprecedented horror, watched as Rey just stared and stared, and Poe stared back. Poe’s eyes flicked to him, then back to Rey, and for the briefest second a shadow glitched on his comely face. Rey’s young face just stared on, taking in Poe’s dark hair, his sideburns, the one little bang that curled over his forehead... "Oh," she said.
Hey! Poe riposted in mock-outrage. I may not be the tallest poppy out there, but I’d have you know I’m one hell of a good driver!
"Oh," Rey said, and Finn wondered if the Story would end there and then, with his untimely (yet still unblushing) demise.
But it was too late. Lieutenant Finn had signed himself off as a romance author, and the Story would go on, with or without the author’s by-your-leave.
FILL - Hyperdrive My Heart (6/?)
"General Organa was the first to speak. "Something rather inordinary happened overnight."
Finn stared his query.
"As you know, we make a point of screening nearly all of our comms-out. With our closest allies, we have an open, if strictly monitored channel. All other communications are one-sided – we send anonymous messages, so to say, in blind trust that they will be received and acted upon."
"Yes, General."
"However, Rey came to me yesterday with a suggestion. One that would enable us to code out if we were transmitting from any chosen location – say, the Kurdan Desert –with no chance whatsoever of detection. The answer would be relayed back to us through a similar protocol."
At this point, the mude Jedi broke into speech. "One small step for a Rey," he said. "One giant leap for the Resistance."
"It’s nothing much, actually." Rey beamed on them all. "Just trick the interlink into a reverse…"
General Organa raised her hand. "I asked Rey to place a maiden call. An innocuous one, on the off-chance her stratagem might fail. The answer went through thirty minutes ago." She motioned to one of the techs, who pushed a few buttons. A screen lit up with the message. "It appears to come from one, ah, Hutt & Smutt corporation."
Finn, who had been trained to ascertain all worst-case scenarios and meet them upfront, did not blush. But he did feel as if Death Star II had been a small order, all things considered.
"The answer is for you, Lieutenant Finn. It’s only fair that you should access it."
Finn looked over at the screen. It still felt unreal, as if he’d woken up to find that his story, the darling of his heart, had only been part of a greater, vastly wider scheme, that was its own authors and rode its twists and cliffhangers while he stood by, a dazed witness. His heart pounding, he let his eyes skim over tight-knit,titillating prose and a refreshing approach of the homoerotic plot, paused at we would, given its incomplete status, be amenable to a series and winced only once, when the letter mentioned options, royalties, and interpretative dances on cantina nights.
Then he came to the offer proper, and his eyes widened.
He turned back to face Leia Organa, his face urgent. "If I do this, will you take the credits? Winter’s coming. And we’ll need more fighters. And I don’t have an account, anyway."
"I will, if you let me return it." Then suddenly she smiled, though her eyes remained under a clear wistful haze. "It’s much the safer bet, life taught me, to repay your debts without delay."
There was silence again, but no longer tense; a donation to Leia, a gift to remembrance. It was only interrupted when another figure strode in, his helmet under his arm. "General," Poe Dameron said. He gave her an impeccable salute and the rest of the room a bold wink. "May I borrow Finn for an hour? My X-wing awaits his early morning lesson."
"Oh, yes, yes." General Organa, startled out of her daze, touched her coronet braid. "Rey, you do remember Commander Dameron, don’t you? He’s our flying head-of-command."
Finn, with brusque and unprecedented horror, watched as Rey just stared and stared, and Poe stared back. Poe’s eyes flicked to him, then back to Rey, and for the briefest second a shadow glitched on his comely face. Rey’s young face just stared on, taking in Poe’s dark hair, his sideburns, the one little bang that curled over his forehead... "Oh," she said.
Hey! Poe riposted in mock-outrage. I may not be the tallest poppy out there, but I’d have you know I’m one hell of a good driver!
"Oh," Rey said, and Finn wondered if the Story would end there and then, with his untimely (yet still unblushing) demise.
But it was too late. Lieutenant Finn had signed himself off as a romance author, and the Story would go on, with or without the author’s by-your-leave.
--------------------------