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They have a bet going.
Kes thinks Poe’s daemon will be a bird, a wild thing with big wings and bright feathers. Shara is certain it will be an astromech, but not an R5 like hers. He’ll have something new and unexpected.
“Twenty credits,” Kes says. Poe is barely old enough to crawl, but his daemon is already launching herself happily off of anything she can climb.
Shara just grins as the baby daemon, currently some kind of tiny squirrel, lands on top of her R2 with a squeak. “You’re on.”
They call her Banbanei, much-loved, and for the first few years, it looks like Kes is right. Banbanei goes through every imaginable animal, droid, and combination thereof, all of them fast and constantly in flight.
“Just wait,” Shara says. “Poe has to touch the ground, eventually.”
After the accident, after the future they promised each other turns to shrapnel and smoke, Kes finds himself suddenly faced with the reality of single parenthood. Poe becomes quiet, or at least quieter, a roar of energy turned down to a steady hum. Banbanei is an R5 unit, small and rust-colored, that follows Poe around with a mournful whir.
Something changes. The R5 becomes a repair droid, and the rust becomes a brighter orange, shot through with brilliant white. Poe has finally put his feet on the ground and started to grow up.
With every change, Kes waits for Banbanei to take flight again, but she never does.
As cycles pass, Poe grows taller, closer and closer to the sky. Banbanei remains gravity-bound, but every inch Poe gains takes him further and further away.
When Banbanei appears one day as a small, round droid, spinning in all directions, Kes stares at her, befuddled. “What is that?”
Poe blinks at him in confusion, glancing at Banbanei with a frown. “She’s an astromech. Same as always.”
“Not any model I’ve ever seen,” Kes says, and the little droid beeps. Her reply isn’t standard binary, but he suspects it’s something rude.
“Me either, but that’s what she is.” Poe nudges her with his toe, and she spins herself in a circle around his legs with a happy chirp. “Maybe she’s one of a kind,” he says fondly.
Under the table, Kes’s daemon, Trise, sniffs at the droid, considering carefully before she snuffs her approval, as if there was any doubt. Trise and Kes may not always understand Banbanei, but they will always love her.
A few days later, the astromech is a different model. Then another. Then another. Then another dozen more before Poe finally leaves to join the Republic fleet.
When the first BB units are introduced, nearly a year later, Kes knows Banbanei has settled. He doesn’t know how, but he knows. Trise laughs like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever seen, even as she follows Kes to the shrine under the tree in the back garden.
He puts a 20 credit chip beside the holo of Shara and tells her archly. “I bet you’re just real damn pleased about this, aren’t you?”
The holo just beams and waves back at him. He can almost hear her say, I told you..
***
If Rey’s daemon was ever a flesh and blood creature, she doesn’t remember. Hinge has always been metal and circuits, always quick and tiny and easily hidden. Soft things don’t last long in the desert, and small things don’t need much to survive.
Sometimes she forgets he’s there, or she forgets he’s a real thing that other people can see. He never ventures out unless they’re alone, so Rey is as surprised as anyone when he skitters down the length of her arm to peer curiously at BB-8.
BB-8 beeps in alarm and rolls backward into Poe, who is staring at Hinge in horror.
“A spider,” he says flatly. “Your daemon is a spider.”
Rey frowns. “So?”
“I knew an officer who had a big stinging insect,” Finn remarks lightly. “And there’s that mechanic with the droid snake.” Smiling, he bends over to study the spider. “Hi, there.”
Hinge clicks cheerfully back at him and unfolds one spindly leg to tap the end of Finn’s nose. The contact makes a spark in Rey’s skin, and Rey suddenly understands the hazy distraction that appears in Poe’s face when either of them touches BB-8. She feels like Finn has brushed agaisnt some deep, secret part of her, leaving behind a sweet prickling sensation. Rey and Hinge both shiver happily.
“Good,” Hinge informs her, indicating Finn. Pointing to BB-8, he adds, “Almost good.”
Poe is just standing there, his jaw tight, eyes tracking the spider’s movements like his life depends on it.
“Are you alright?” Rey asks. Poe keeps staring in silence, and she realizes the awful truth. “Oh gods, you’re afraid of spiders.”
Hinge makes an offended noise, and Poe frowns. “I’m not afraid of them. I’ve just never met one that was particularly friendly.”
BB-8 beeps mournfully and informs Rey that {Poe} spider := species indigenous to Yavin IV := danger : venomous {/Poe}∎ She adds that [spider (daemon) > spider (venomous)] ∧ [{Poe} Rey > sentient lifeforms (other ¬Finn)] ∴ (future) spider (daemon) =/= danger {/Poe}∎
Clicking in agreement, Hinge crawls back up Rey’s arm and perches on her shoulder so that he can face Poe, who stays perfectly still, as if watching a predator stalk toward him.
Rey rolls her eyes and sets her hand gently on BB-8’s dome. Poe starts in surprise, then immediately relaxes.
“That’s not fair,” he says, and Rey just smiles.
Finn wraps his arm around Rey’s waist, resting his chin on her other shoulder and settling his hand beside hers on top of BB-8. The little droid makes a sound like purring, and for a moment, Poe closes his eyes.
When he opens them, he looks both resigned and determined. “I liked it better when you two only did that by accident.”
“No, you don’t,” they respond in unison. Rey grins, and Finn tightens his arm around her.
With a deep breath and obvious hesitation, Poe raises his hand to where Hinge is perched on Rey’s shoulder and offers his open palm. Slowly, like he’s worried Poe might spook and run away, Hinge creeps forward. His pointed feet press divots into the pads of Poe’s fingers, and Poe shudders. Rey rubs her thumb gently against BB-8’s smooth shell, which makes Poe glare at her.
The moment Poe is distracted, Hinge darts forward and zips up Poe’s arm, skittering over his shoulder and dropping into his breast pocket with a triumphant click.
Poe yelps and spins around, trying to find where the spider went, and Finn buries his face against Rey’s neck, laughing.
Rey would laugh, too, except that Hinge is curled up in Poe’s pocket, telling her, “Good. Warm. Safe. Very good.”
There’ll be plenty of time to laugh, later. For now, she catches Poe’s hand and draws him close so that she can pull open his pocket and show him where Hinge is hiding. Poe makes a face. Then he looks up at Rey, and his expression softens.
“So now I’ve met a friendly spider.”
“Not really friendly,” Rey says. “Just one that likes you.”
“A spider with good taste,” Finn adds.
Poe sighs and doesn’t argue.
Out of sight, Hinge curls up into a ball of contentment, as much at ease in Poe’s pocket as he is in Rey’s. Through him, Rey can feel a rhythm like a heartbeat She doesn’t know if it’s Hinge’s, Poe’s, or her own.
***
He expects her to be black or white, but she isn’t.
Rescue - and Finn doesn’t know how to feel about BB-8 giving her that name - is a deep, rich red. Not the scarlet of sunset, but the bottomless red of arterial blood. No markings, no variations, just a uniform coat of bloody crimson, like she’s been soaked and stained in gore.
“We used to say red daemons were lucky,” General Organa tells him. “It meant the starbird was looking out for you.”
Finn doesn’t know if he’s lucky, but he feels whole for the first time in his life.
When the First Order took him, he was too young to remember his home or his family, but he remembers the moment they cut away his daemon. The earliest memory he has is of the cold, ripping pain and the confusion when that place inside him was suddenly vacant. People are easier to control without souls, after all, and the First Order is all about control.
“It’s kind of genius, really,” Poe says. Finn and Rey stare at him in horror. “I mean, it’s sick and terrible, and whoever thought of it was probably reincarnated as a shit-eating worm. But it’s definitely effective.”
Even with his daemon torn away, Finn always knew where she was. He used to close his eyes and turn to face whatever direction pointed to her, drawn toward her like a compass needle to truth north.
That’s how they found her. It was so ridiculously simple, Finn doesn’t know why no one thought of it before. All he did was sit behind Poe and Rey in the passenger seat of an old freighter and point. Poe plotted a course to whatever system was dead ahead, and off they went. It took five hyperspace jumps to get to the right system and a day of searching to find the containment facility, and they may have let out several dozen other captive daemons in the process.
When Finn’s daemon came running to him, a little red mouse like a drop of blood in the crowd, climbing up him as fast as she could and curling up under his collar like that was the only good place in the galaxy, then he knew it was worth it.
Rescue is his. She’s the rest of him, and now that he’s in one piece, he wonders what kind of person that piece is. It doesn’t help that Rescue changes her form more often than most people change clothes. He can’t begrudge her that newfound freedom or keep from sharing her delight, but her mercurial energy makes him doubt his own personality.
“She’s testing,” Poe assures him. “Some kids’ daemons change hourly. She’ll start to settle when she’s ready.”
From someone else, that might be comforting, but for some inexplicable reason, Rescue has decided to dislike Poe, going so far as to hide, growl, or glare if he gets too close. On one occasion, having been startled, she shifted into a big cat and swiped at him with sharp claws.
"He makes you afraid," is all she’ll say. For the life of him, Finn can’t figure out what that means.
To further complicate matters, Rescue absolutely adores Rey. Though she still won’t let anyone but Finn touch her, she loves to settle happily near Rey and play with Hinge like everything is perfect and wonderful.
"She makes you brave," Rescue says, which is true, but it’s not an answer.
Poe insists that it’s fine, that he’s not bothered, that Rescue’s just young and acting out, but Finn knows him better than that.
Finn, Poe, and Rey, have been on a course toward... something. Finn doesn’t have the words to define it or the experience to give it context, so he’s just holding his breath, waiting for whatever happens next. Rescue brings everything to a screeching halt.
Before he found her, Finn had imagined what it would be like to have a daemon, to have a constant companion who shared his thoughts and his heart, a source of understanding and harmony. In truth, she does understand him in ways no other being ever could, but there’s nothing harmonious about their existence. She might know his thoughts, but she certainly doesn’t share them or his heart.
Months go by, and she doesn’t settle. Her rate of change slows, but any new discovery, surprise, or upset will send her into whatever form seems most suited for the situation. Poe continues to inspire transformations into things with teeth and claws, and Poe continues to pretend that doesn’t upset him.
So much for the lucky red daemon.
***
BB-8 is a joke.
Only seven models of the BB astromechs were ever produced, and Poe’s never heard of another BB daemon, so they joke that she’s the rare eighth model, custom made for the galaxy’s greatest starpilot. In Poe’s heart and in the steady thread between them, she’s still his Banbanei.
“So you have an inside joke with yourself, basically,” Finn says when Poe explains the humor.
“She thought of it.” Poe jerks his head at BB-8.
Rolling along beside him, BB-8 beeps cheerfully {Indicator (BB-8) := [referential : esoteric]} ∧ phonetic {indicator (BB-8) ≈ indicator (Banbanei)} ∴ hilarious ∎
Poe snorts, and Finn looks at both of them like they’re crazy. There are times when understanding BB-8 comes easily and times when Poe can’t follow her at all. He doesn’t know which is better or which says more about his self-awareness, but he does know that Finn is only just starting to understand the standard astromechs. It could take him years to learn what the General affectionately refers to as B-speak.
“It’s not that funny,” Poe admits, and BB-8 gives him an irritated bump against his ankle.
She’s always been strange. She seeks out touch like no daemon Poe’s ever seen, and every time she brushes or bumps against another person, it leaves him feeling off-balance and exposed.
It’s also led to some unflattering rumors regarding his promiscuity and emotional stability, but Poe prefers not to think about that. Fortunately, those rumors have yet to reach Finn and Rey, and having them touch BB-8 is at least mostly pleasant.
Maybe one day the three of them will get this thing between them sorted out, though it’s much more likely that Rey and Finn will sort it out, and Poe will have to find a way to catch up. If Rescue’s dislike for him is any indication, he may be left behind completely.
Of course, then the Stormtroopers start turning up, and things take an unexpected turn.
When the first trooper surrenders to a scout patrol, asking for sanctuary as her daemon peeks warily out of her pocket, no one knows what to do with her. For lack of other direction, she latches onto Finn, and her daemon decides to rely on Rescue as a role model for how to be a proper daemon.
There are so many ways for this to go wrong, Poe can’t even laugh at the irony. He does laugh a little when the second and third Stormtroopers come to the Resistance for help, but Finn’s glare shuts him up immediately. The fourth trooper shows up with his daemon in a cage and claw marks all over his face and arms, and everything about this stops being funny.
Finn does the best he can with answering questions and offering advice, but all they seem to need is time to adjust and get to know their daemons. The First Order has starved them for so long, they’re desperate for a taste of what it’s like to be whole.
In the meantime, Rescue has shifted into a more-or-less consistent canine form and takes great delight in herding the new daemons around. Concerned with the potential for havoc-wreaking, BB-8 adopts the responsibility of watching over Rescue and keeping the lot of them in line, with varied success.
There are seven of them, altogether, and they make quite a sight, with Rescue loping at the front of her motley pack of four, Hinge perched on her head, and BB-8 rolling along behind. Every time they pass, each of the daemons greets Poe in its own unique way, some more pleasantly than others.
“Why do they all get along with BB-8, but half of them hate me?” Poe finally asks Rey. He’s being petulant, but Rescue’s animosity is starting to wear on him. Combined with the continued wariness of some of the troopers and the open distaste of their daemons, Poe can’t help but feel like he’s done something wrong.
“BB-8’s a droid,” Rey says. “They don’t think she can hurt them, and Rescue listens to her, so they figure she must be alright.”
Only one of the troopers’ daemons is a droid: a boxy, old-fashioned maintenance unit that trails after BB-8 like a younger brother. Both the droid and his person are skittish and easily startled, but they seem to have gotten over their hesitation toward Poe. The others regard him with various degrees of trepidation, but the worst by far is Spire, a large Voritor lizard with armored scales and needle-sharp teeth that drip something Poe desperately hopes isn’t venom.
Spire’s person, LC-9925, is a quiet boy called Quarter who treats everyone with reserved friendliness, as different from his daemon as Spire is from the others. Since their arrival, the only noticeable improvement is that Spire has stopped attacking him, even as she continues to snap and hiss at everyone else.
Something is going to go wrong. Poe can feel it. When he says as much to Rey, she tightens her jaw and nods.
The moment comes unexpectedly, in the middle of an unremarkable day. Poe, Rey, and Finn are going over some of the assorted bits of intelligence the troopers have provided in formal debriefings and casual conversations. Rather, Poe is going over the intelligence. Finn and Rey are debating the relative merits of different types of protein rations.
Suddenly, Rey gasps in pain and braces herself to keep from falling over, her face tense and pale. Poe is on his feet, mouth open to ask what’s wrong when cold agony rakes across his belly, like icy knives slashing him open from the inside. He doubles over, and the world goes black. When his vision clears, he’s on his knees, shaking and disoriented.
Banbanei.
Poe stumbles trying to run through the door to get to his hurt daemon, and Rey grabs his arm and pulls him after her. She’s still pale, but she has enough composure to steer them in the right direction with Finn hard on their heels. Finn doesn’t seem out of sorts, so whatever’s happened to Hinge and BB-8 must have left Rescue alone.
Poe can barely think through the pain. There’ve been times when BB-8 being jostled on a rough flight has made him sick or when she’s been so far away that he felt hollowed-out and breathless, but this is different. This time she’s damaged.
They arrive just after the troopers. Quarter is desperately trying to talk down Spire as she circles around Rescue, now in her feline predator form, and a large hunting bird called Shriek, all three of them hissing and growling. BB-8 is huddled in a corner, wobbling miserably, with a row of claw marks scraped across her body. Poe’s stomach turns.
The other daemons immediately dash to their people, all chattering at once. Hinge climbs onto Rey’s shoulder so fast, Poe doesn’t see him until he’s already there. BB-8 lets out a burst of frantic beeping when she sees Poe, but she doesn’t move from her corner, trapped by the confrontation.
“Fight!” Hinge tells Rey, his spindly legs clicking anxiously. One of them is bent at a strange angle, and he holds it up as if injured. “Spire hurt Hinge. BB-8 protect. BB-8 hurt! Rescue fight!”
Poe only half-listens, his attention fixed on his poor daemon, her smooth surface ripped open in three jagged lines. He can feel the cuts as plainly as if they were in his own skin, like he could put a hand to his belly and it would come away bloody.
He takes a step toward BB-8, and Spire whirls on him, needle teeth bared. Shriek uses the distraction to lunge at Spire, aiming for her side, but his wicked talons glance off of the armored scales. Shriek’s person, a woman called Dixson, puts her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry as Spire sinks her teeth into the edge of Shriek’s wing and rips out a mouthful of feathers.
Rescue hangs back, watching, pacing, keeping herself between Spire and BB-8, who is rocking in the corner, warbling anxiously.
Poe is shaking. He’s going to pass out if he doesn’t get to her. He takes another cautious step, and Spire snaps at him, much too close. Rescue growls in warning, but Spire ignores her, bright reptilian eyes fixed on Poe.
Quarter reaches for her, speaking gently. “It’s okay, girl. Nobody’s gonna hurt you. Just calm down, alright?”
In a flash, Spire turns on him, biting down hard on his outstretched hand. Both human and daemon scream in pain. Spire is too disconnected to understand that she’s hurting herself. She’s afraid and angry, and she doesn’t realize that all she has to do is let Quarter take care of her.
Later, Poe’s heart will break for them. Right now, he needs to reach his own daemon.
Another step closer, skirting carefully around the edge of the room, and Spire immediately lets go of Quarter. She rushes at Poe, too fast for him to move, too fast to draw his blaster, and all he can think is that being mauled by a lizard is the dumbest possible way to die.
Someone screams. He thinks it’s Rey.
He brings up his arm in time to keep the sharp claws from raking his face, and everything from his wrist to his elbow feels like it’s being crushed and shredded all at once.. He tries to kick Spire off of him, but she sinks her teeth into his ankle and jerks hard enough to pull him off his feet. He’d be worried about a permanent limp if he wasn’t so sure she was going to kill him.
And BB-8. His Banbanei. She’s going to die, too.
***
When Poe submits his incident report, Leia reads it twice, just to be sure she’s absorbed every strange detail.
“His daemon bit him?”
Poe nods, his expression carefully neutral. “Yes, sir. I’ve recommended they both be kept under medical observation until something can be figured out.”
He looks terrible. One arm is in a sling, and the other is resting on a crutch. The bandages are hidden by his clothes, but nothing can disguise the sickly pallor and dark patches under his eyes. The daemon’s venom wasn’t deadly, but it gave him a full twenty-four hours of misery. BB-8, on the other hand, looks fresh and shiny with her brand new panels, and Leia’s certain that someone, probably Rey, has given her a detail cleaning in the past few days.
Leia looks back at the report. “But when Spire attacked you, Rescue... rescued you?”
“That’s right, sir.”
From her place at Poe’s feet, Rescue affirms, “I protect Poe.”
For whatever reason, Rescue has adopted the shape of a large gurrcat, her deep red coat now brindled with darker shades of crimson. She’s seated primly, as if imitating Poe’s parade rest, and her head is level with his waist. As far as Leia can tell, Rescue hasn’t left Poe’s side since the incident. She spent his recovery curled up beneath his bed in medical, growling at anyone who approached until she was satisfied they meant no harm. In a fight between this iteration of Rescue and a pissed off lizard daemon, Leia would put her money on the cat.
“Okay, let’s just go over this from the top,” Leia sighs. “Something startled Spire, and she stepped on Hinge. BB-8 intervened, and Spire attacked her. Rescue and Shriek tried to get Spire to back down and caused a confrontation, during which Spire injured both Shriek and Quarter. When you went for BB-8, Spire attacked you. Then Rescue, Finn’s daemon, who hates you, pulled Spire off of you and saved your life.”
Before Poe can answer, Rescue says, “I am Finn’s. Poe is Finn’s. I protect Poe.”
Poe frowns down at her. “To be fair, though, you do hate me.”
Rescue looks back up at him with an expression that suggests she’s questioning his intelligence. From Poe’s other side, BB-8 beeps something that makes Poe turn to her in surprise.
“Gods bless him, sometimes I think he’s not very bright,” Leia’s daemon, Chelles, remarks from his perch on her desk. “Lovely boy, but not much of a thinker.”
Leia flicks at his tail feathers in irritation. “What are you talking about?”
“I believe Commander Dameron is quite mistaken about young Rescue’s intentions,” Chelles intones sagely, and Leia resists the urge to flick at him again for being cryptic.
Rescue nods. “Poe makes Finn afraid. I protect Finn. I protect Poe.”
BB-8 chirps agreement, and Poe closes his eyes for a moment and sighs. “I don’t... General, do you mind if I sort this out in private? I think Rescue would have helped anyone in that situation, so I’m not sure our particular relationship is immediately relevant.”
He really does look terrible. Some of the burdens on Poe’s shoulders are ones she put there, but life has added more than enough weight of its own. She’d order him to take a month of leave if she thought for a moment he’d actually use it to visit his father and rest.
Knowing Poe, he’d get sidetracked and spend his vacation saving a village or joining a band of guerilla freedom fighters, and he’d come back more battered and exhausted than when he left. Sending Finn and Rey along with him probably wouldn’t be much help.
“Thank you, Commander. That will be all for now.”
“Yes, sir.”
He doesn’t salute as he leaves. He hasn’t saluted her since he first joined the Resistance, when Chelles observed, loudly and in front of half his squadron, that it was ridiculous for Leia to demand military formality from someone whose diapers she had changed as a baby. Leia had been mortified, but Poe, ever on point, had replied that was fine as long as she didn’t try to change his diapers now.
“I wish you’d be nicer to him,” Leia says, once Poe is gone.
“I’m exactly as nice as I need to be,” Chelles replies stiffly. “He knows how fond we are of him. There’s no need to be demonstrative.”
“That doesn’t mean you can call him an idiot to his face.” Leia, of course, has called him much worse things, but only when he’s done something especially reckless. Trying to protect his injured daemon hardly qualifies.
“I didn’t call him an idiot. I merely suggested that the reason for the young daemon’s behavior was rather obvious, if only he’d give it a bit of thought.”
Chelles hops down from his perch and waddles over to Leia’s arm, tucking his head under her chin. He’s a sleek fishing raptor with long blue-green wings and smooth, glossy feathers. Leia doesn’t believe there’s a more beautiful creature in the galaxy, or a more irritating one.
“We don’t act in conflict with our person’s feelings. We can’t,” Chelles reminds her. “Which, I would add, suggests that poor Spire and her young man will need much more than a bit of observation.”
Leia sighs. “I know.”
From the moment he arrived, Finn has been a joy, a ray of sunshine bringing new light to their cause. Rescue, on the other hand, has been a complication and a distraction, balanced only by how much her presence means for Finn. The other troopers have been nothing short of distressing, and their daemons are a pack of nightmares, each wilder than the last. Leia is happy for them, happy that they’re free and together, but there are days she wants to send them all to some nice, remote world where they can all bond in peace without disrupting her base.
More than anything, she wants this business with Poe, Finn, and Rey to get sorted as quickly as possible. The cloud of sexual tension that follows them around has reached such proportions that Leia swears she heard Ackbar mutter something about repressed young humans. For her part, Leia has thirty credits riding on a happy ending to that mess, so they’d better get to it.
***
Rescue is different.
BB-8 says Rescue is different. BB-8 says Rescue is perfect. BB-8 is perfect.
Daemons have rules. Rescue does not know the rules. Rescue knows that she is Finn’s. Rescue knows that Finn is hers. Rescue belongs to everyone who is Finn’s. Everyone who is Finn’s belongs to Rescue. That is not a daemon rule. That is a Rescue rule. That is a BB-8 rule. That is a Hinge rule.
BB-8 says they are a family. BB-8 says Rescue should not growl at Poe. BB-8 knows all the rules.
Poe says Rescue hates him. Poe does not know the rules.
Rescue says, “You make Finn afraid.”
Poe is sad. Poe says, “He’s afraid of me? Why? What did I do?”
Rescue does not understand. Rescue says, “You make Finn afraid. Finn is not afraid of you.”
Poe does not understand. Chelles is right. Poe is not always smart.
Poe says, “Maybe I should try talking to Finn about this again.”
BB-8 says, query ≠ repeating ∴ ¬again∎
Poe says, “Fine. I’ll try talking to him period. Smartass.”
Poe touches BB-8 with his foot. BB-8 says this is not kicking. BB-8 says this means Poe loves her. Rescue is glad Poe does not kick BB-8. The humans in The Facility kicked Rescue. BB-8 says they were very bad humans who worked for The First Order. BB-8 says no one will kick Rescue or else BB-8 will roll into their shins very hard. BB-8 protects Rescue.
Finn is in Poe’s room. It is also Finn’s room. It is also Rey’s room. BB-8 says it is not officially Finn and Rey’s room. Rey says they are allowed to share because General Organa is allergic to telling Poe no. Rescue likes sharing a room with BB-8 and Hinge. Rescue will wake up if they leave. Rescue will not wake up alone.
Finn says, “I swear I have no idea what she’s talking about.”
Finn does not know the rules.
Rescue says, “You are his. He makes you afraid.”
Finn says, “But I’m not! I lo- I trust him. He’s not gonna hurt us, Res.”
Poe is sad. Finn is sad. Rey is sad. Rescue does not understand.
Rescue says, “Poe is ours. He makes you afraid.”
Rey says, “Afraid of what?”
Rey understands. Rey knows the rules.
Rescue says, “Finn is different. Rey is different. Poe is not different. Finn is afraid.”
Hinge is on BB-8’s head. Hinge says, “Poe! Very good. Love. Stay. Want to stay.”
BB-8 says, [ {Poe} \ {Finn, Rey} ≤ 0 ] ∧ [ {Poe, Finn, Rey} : ∞ ] ∎
Rescue says, “Finn does not know. Finn is afraid.”
Finn looks at Poe. Poe looks at Finn. Rey looks at Rescue.
Rey says, “Alright, but that doesn’t explain your attitude. Or why you’re suddenly so sweet on him.”
Rescue does not understand. Rescue says, “Finn is afraid. I protect Finn. Poe is hurt. I protect Poe.”
Rey nods. Rey says, “I suppose that makes sense.”
Poe says, “It does?”
Finn says, “I think maybe it kind of does, actually.”
Finn looks at Rescue. Rescue loves Finn. Rescue loves Rey. Rescue loves Poe. Finn is first.
Rescue says, “I protect.”
Finn scratches Rescue’s head. This is good. Rescue loves Finn.
Finn says, “I know you do, but you don’t have to protect me from Poe.”
Finn does not understand. Rescue says, “You are afraid. I protect.”
Hinge says, “Afraid! Protect. Poe good. Afraid bad. Rescue protect. Rescue very good.”
Hinge understands. Hinge knows the rules.
Poe says, “Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?”
Poe does not understand. Poe is not always smart.
BB-8 says, query: [ {daemons} action : exit] → [ {humans} action : ∎ ] ∎
Rescue does not want to go. BB-8 says it will help their humans if the daemons leave. Rescue wants to help. Rescue nods.
Rescue says, “We will go. You will talk. This is good.”
Hinge says, “Good! Talk. Rey talk. All good.”
Poe says, “Did they just decide they’re locking us in here until we figure things out?”
Finn says, “Pretty much.”
Rescue rubs her head on Finn’s shoulder. Finn scratches behind Rescue’s ears. Rescue loves Finn. Finn loves Rescue. Finn will be less afraid.
Finn says, “Don’t go too far.”
Far is bad. Finn was far. Finn is close now. Rescue will not go far.
***
“She thought what now?”
The signal is weak, and Poe’s eye roll is barely visible in the holo image. “She thought she was protecting him. He was afraid I was going to, I dunno, break up with them or something. So Rescue thought by protecting him from me, she was protecting him from being scared, which just made him more scared that she’d run me off, and it just went round and round in this weird loop.”
Poe’s calls are necessarily few and far between, and Kes looks forward to them like warm days in winter. Kes has been asking the gods for years to send someone special for Poe, and now it seems the gods have sent two someones. The only thing he doesn’t understand is why there’s a spider on Poe’s head.
Trise has her paws up on the desk, her tail swishing behind her as she watches the flickering image. “They both sound very silly. The girl sounds nice.”
Poe laughs, and it’s like sunshine cutting through a storm. The spider on his head replies happily, “Rey! Very nice. Love Poe. Very good.”
Kes has very clear memories of Poe at thirteen, sobbing in terror and embarrassment because one of his idiot friends thought it would be funny to put a canopy spider in Poe’s birthday present. It was a good thing the creature wasn’t poisonous, or Kes might have strangled the stupid kid with his bare hands.
The fact that a mechanical spider daemon is comfortably nestled in Poe’s curls is strange beyond belief. Kes has gathered through context that it belongs to the girl, Rey, but it’s still an odd sight.
“I’m glad you got it sorted out,” Kes says. If Finn and Rey are half as wonderful as Poe says they are, they might be worth keeping around. “So when do I get to meet these two?”
Poe’s face falls. “Next time I get leave, I hope, but... You know how it is.”
Kes knows. He knows the disappointment of cancelled visits. He knows the endless hours of worry and the nightmares that never seem to stop. He knows what his own mother must have felt, what Shara’s father went through, what Leia must dread every time one of her soldiers doesn’t come back.
“I know,” he says. “Have them send me a message, sometime. I wanna hear what they have to say for themselves.”
Poe’s smile returns. “I will. I’ll go tell them now.”
They’re out of time. The Resistance can only hold an unencrypted connection for a few minutes before they risk detection. As much as he craves these moments, there’s not enough longing in the galaxy to make Kes risk his son’s safety.
“Tell them they’d better look after you and Banbanei,” he says. “And you look after yourself.”
“I will,” Poe promises. “I love you, papon.”
“Yi banesso, Poeia.”
Kes manages to wait until the holo image cuts out before he starts crying.
Trise climbs into his lap, curling herself into his chest so that he can hold onto her. “He’ll be alright,” she says. “They’ll take care of him. He’ll come home.”
“I know,” Kes says. Trise is the only comfort he has, the only steadiness that keeps him from worrying himself into insanity.
Shara was right. Poe had to touch the ground to grow up, but she never could have imagined how far he would fly. Now, Kes owes Leia another thirty credits.