Poe calculated, then calculated again. He wished not for the first time that BB-8 had come along on this one; Poe was good at maths, but nothing compared to a droid. And no droid was better than his buddy. Still, he had to admit at the end of all his work that BB-8 would probably tell him the same thing: actually getting to the sentient planet wouldn't be easy.
"You look like you need to take a shit." Jess' voice from behind him made him shake his head. He didn't even bother to look at her, though the calculations he'd scribbled on both sides of the paper he'd dug up from the galley had started to swim and twist into nonsensical shapes. He still stared at them as if at any moment they'd offer up a secret that would make getting to this damn place a pleasure cruise instead of an absolute ball-buster.
"I wish this could be as easily taken of," he muttered, finally looking up from the equations. He'd done them with the computer, in his head, and by hand, just in case.
"What's the problem?" She asked, hanging from the safety grip set into the ceiling. No co-pilot's chair in this model of freighter. She unwrapped an energy bar with her free hand and gnawed on it joylessly, but it didn't seem to bother her much even though Poe knew from experience how terrible those things tasted. Hell, given what her mornings were usually like she was downright cheerful.
"The planet has moved itself into uncharted space. I guess it can do that," he said, shrugging. He'd have to get used to even more weirdness than usual to make it through their mission, so he just did his best to accept it. A planet that could think and chart its own course through space only a handful of living beings had ever seen? Okay. Just dandy.
"Sure, why the hell not right?" Jess said, brushing crumbs off her shirt. Zawati had insisted on buying more clothing for everyone, as if whatever they might find in Uncharted Space would care what they covered their bodies with. Still, Poe had to admit Zawati was not at all lacking in the presence department, and fashion was part of that. Presence could get you access when other things had failed.
Even Jess had let herself get decked out in embroidered vantablack gaberwool and sturdy Crosh-hide leather, geometric Emori patterns picked out expertly on the buttery surface of her boots and gloves. Zawati had done Jess' hair for her, too, so that they both wore a style involving elaborate Dathomiri knots and braiding such that they might as well have been warriors about to ride out to battle.
"Yeah. And it's not going to come to us. Doesn't trust us enough for that. Which means a series of hyperspace jumps that make my asshole clench just thinking about them."
He studied the freighter's controls, not for the first time. The reality of what he would have to accomplish made him see every flaw, every shoddy circuit and loose knob. It wasn't so much that he worried for himself; he held Jess and Zawati's lives in the palm of his hand and at the moment they felt particularly heavy.
"Hey, c'mon. What kind of hotshot are you?" Jess asked, though by her tone she was trying to build up his confidence instead of tear it down.
"Give me a break, Pava!" He said, without any real heat. "One jump, sure. Two, fine. But eight? Even Luke kriffing Skywalker couldn't do that."
"He probably can," she pointed out. "How the hell did he get to wherever he is otherwise? With no one able to find him till us? And even then it took a stupid amount of effort and danger and death and bullshit."
"You have a point," he conceded, albeit with bad grace. He offered up a little prayer that Rey would be safe on her seeker's path. He didn't know her, but he knew how important she was to Finn and how much her mission mattered.
"You think the freighter can make it? It's one thing to steal a ship on a podunk planet, but if we need better it might not be as easy as Zawati waving her hand."
"Might make more sense to upgrade what we have." He mused. As if on cue, a musty smell rose from the pilot's chair as he shifted his weight. As if he wasn't already cataloguing every flaw in the entire place.
"Yeah and I want to stop somewhere and check every inch of this damn thing for trackers," Jess grumbled. "I mean, just in case. Might not do any good but it'll make me feel better."
"Sure. We need food and water too."
"Well, we have the space. One advantage of having nicked a freighter."
Even Mathilde seemed pleased by the upgrade, often napping contentedly in the starboard compartment even though she had to be hungry by now. Poe dearly hoped she wouldn't be adversely impacted by all the hyperspace jumps. He might not enjoy having a rancor on board, but she was sentient, a feeling being who could contemplate her own suffering. He had a responsibility towards her. Besides, Zawati loved her. That was good enough for Poe.
He pulled up the galaxy map and punched in the coordinates he liked best.
"All right, Jess. Go and sit in your girlfriend's lap till we get there or something."
"She's not my girlfriend," Jess snapped, in a way that reminded him of children teasing one another on the playground after school.
"Yeah, okay," he said at her retreating back in an aggravating sing-song. She flipped him off without looking back at him, and he laughed himself sick.
They stopped on a tranquil resort planet this time, because why not? Poe figured they might as well have a day or two of swimming in the warm orange ocean under the ever-present quadrangle of white moons, punctuated by acquiring ship upgrades however and whenever they could. Normally Jess didn't have anything against trading sex for whatever they needed, but this time she hesitated. Of course Poe would never pressure her to do anything she didn't want to, but he did wonder at what had changed.
Because of Zawati, maybe?
Poe had to consider it, especially watching them chase each other through the surf. He never thought he'd see imperious, aloof Zawati act like a Yavini teenager on holiday, naked as the day she was born and gamboling around like a puppy. Jess' hair was free and long down her bare back, floating like a banner in the humid breeze as she and Zawati all but played together like kids. Watching Jess act so happy made his own heart swell up with joy, like it always did when something good happened to his best friend.
He watched them from where he'd stretched out on the glimmering pale sand, and for a moment he could imagine that they weren't about to undertake something only a handful of people had ever attempted. He indulged the fantasy, imagining that instead of piloting through Uncharted Space, they were all going to meander back to some fancy hotel and drink too many blue drinks.
Jess snapped him across the belly with her rolled up towel, making him yelp and jump to his feet. He hadn't even seen her coming.
"What the hell!" '
She threw her head back and cackled with glee.
"Sorry, sorry. The opportunity was just too good."
"I hate you."
"No you don't. You love me!" She insisted in a sing song, getting him back, he thought, for poking fun at her earlier. When he leapt at her she took off down the beach, laughter mixing with his as he tried his best to run on such fine sand. When he caught her they went tumbling into the waves together, laughing and splashing, pushing each other into the water and watching the other come up spluttering.
Force, if you listen to ordinary pilots, keep us safe.
