Ben reiterated the highlights of his proposal and the quartet discussed it at length for the next few hours before Poe almost reluctantly announced that it was past the time they were supposed to return to their ship. "I like your ideas on this." Poe said, shaking Ben's hand. "I'll talk with our people and get back to you as soon as I know something."
"Thank you." Ben said, feeling much more positively disposed toward the rebel. As they walked toward Bay 77 together he decided it probably wouldn't hurt to mention: "I want the core systems to know my proposal is an offer, not a threat, so we're moving the bulk of the fleet towards the outter rim tonight. It may be a few days before you can reach us on anything but a hyperspace channel."
"Understood." Poe said, looking at the taller man oddly. "If you have no specific area in mind, might make a suggestion?"
"Sure." Ben was curious to hear what the rebel might suggest.
"There's been a lot of trouble out near the spice lanes, the nearby systems would probably welcome a bit of assistance with their problems." Poe stated.
"Assist the spicers?" Ben snorted. "Not likely."
"The spicers aren't the ones needing assistance. Plenty of decent folks travel through there too, we've had reports of whole convoys disappearing without a trace. I don't have the resources that you do or I'd go check it out myself." Poe said as they stepped into the hangar. "If you bring a little security to the spice lanes, maybe those nearby systems will be a bit more inclined to listen to what you have to say about this federation. Win over those systems, the rest of that quadrant wont be far behind."
Ben contemplated the idea for a few seconds then shrugged and agreed to check into it.
BB-8 was waiting for them by the X-wing, unhappy to have been left alone for so long. "Sorry, buddy, you can come with us next time." He said as the droid chattered it's displeasure. Finn was already strapped into the gunner's seat by the time Poe made it to the X-wing.
"You're getting awefully chummy with that guy." Finn said low enough to not be overheard as BB-8 was lifted into fighter by the onboard astromech loader.
"Yeah, well, what can I say? I believe him." Poe looked toward the pair and smiled. "Take a look at those two and tell me you don't believe he'd give all of this up for her."
Finn looked toward them and his eyes went wide. They were making quite the spectacle of themselves with Rey's arms wrapped loosely around Ben's neck, resting on his shoulders, his hands on her hips, their smiling faces inches apart, talking to each other as if nothing else existed.
Finn grumbled, "Maybe."
Poe called out, "By the way! Congratulations on the wedding!" He smiled and closed the canape as Rey turned to wave and called back, "Thank you!"
Rey turned back to Ben, "So, the spice lanes… Is that where Kessel is?" She grinned. "I always wanted to know what it must have been like to make that run in the Falcon."
Ben grimaced and waited for the roar of the departing Xwing to die down. "Forget about it, it's dangerous in any ship let alone that ancient hunk of junk." He said as they left the bay.
"Could the Redemption do it?" She asked, her eyes alight with excitement at the prospect.
"No, a ship with this much mass would be torn apart before it got halfway through." As much as he thought she looked gorgeous all lit up with excitement like she was, he was not thrilled about the source of that excitement. "We wont be going anywhere near Kessel."
Her face fell. "Oh." She kept her silence for a time then asked, "Could a TIE fighter do it?"
He groaned then answered, "No. Ordinary TIE fighters don't have hyperdrives."
"Are there any non-ordinary TIE fighters," She pressed. "Ones with hyperdrives? Could one of those navigate through there?"
"I only know of one that's capable of making that run." He said with a sigh. He really wished she'd drop the subject.
"One?" Her eyes were big and bright. "A prototype?"
"Not really." He shrugged. "We wont be mass producing them."
"Why?" She frowned. "If you can advance the fleet's technology, why not do so?"
"Modern TIEs are nimble, fast and already way more advanced than your typical light fighter. Less than one in fifty trainees can even learn to fly one well enough to be assigned to a wing. Plus, adding a hyperdrive means getting rid of the gunner's position." He explained then asked, "How many trainees do you suppose can learn to fly a TIE and be an effective gunner at the same time?"
"Not very many, I guess." She answered, a little deflated.
"And if you were to make them even faster and more nimble, how many pilots do you suppose you're going to be able to find to fly them?"
"Even fewer." She frowned. "Who flies the one you mentioned?"
"I do." He smirked.
"You?" She sounded surprised enough to hurt his ego just a tiny bit. "So, do you think you could beat the Falcon's record on the Kessel run?" Her grin was full of mischief.
He rolled his eyes. "Why would I want to?"
"For fun?"
"Fun?" He scoffed. "Navigating a minefield of black holes and astroid belts, in a light fighter, for no reason at all, is not my idea of fun."
"Oh? What is?" She asked in a challenging tone.
He thought about that for a moment and realized he didn't actually have an idea of fun. "This evening was pretty fun." He shrugged.
"It was!" She agreed. "But I mean like, real heart pounding, breath taking fun. The kind of things you can't wait to do again."
He sent her an image that made her blush. "Besides that!" She giggled.
"Besides that?" He grinned. "Well, I like flying. I really enjoyed designing all the little custom modifications on my Silencer." He thought about it another moment. "Hmm, I like fighting."
"Fighting?" She frowned.
"Fighting, sparring, training… doesn't really matter which." He slanted her a sideways look. "It's fun, pitting your skills against your opponent's, out thinking them, out working them, out manuevering them."
"Getting beaten by them…?" She asked, tongue in cheek.
"Never." He smirked. "Never happened."
"Oh, really? Take a look in the mirror and tell me that." She gestured toward his face.
"That's different. I was more concerned with not hurting you than I was with getting hurt by you." He said with just a touch of wounded pride.
"I'm pretty sure it still counts." She teased.
"It doesn't count." He disagreed.
"Rematch?" She offered.
"Sparring gear?" He insisted.
"Of course." She smiled.
"Tomorrow morning." He agreed then said with a wink. "I already have other plans for tonight."
