How far did her expense account go?

Finn pondered the question as he took another sip of Merenzane Gold, wrapped himself tighter in the plush, golden bathrobe and relaxed into the curved, sumptuous bulk of one of the sofas clustered in the main cabin. He surveyed the interior of the shuttle. It was compact, even cozy, but the decor was pure high-end luxury in the currently fashionable style; flowing organic shapes inlaid with precious metals, polished wood or materials that Finn couldn't identify, from worlds he'd never heard of and would never see. And it seemed to be brand new.

The medbay had been similarly high-end and superbly equipped, and after twenty minutes there, followed by a glass of Merenzane, Finn could barely feel the injury, the stresses of the day slipping away. Floor to ceiling panels gave a simulated view of the passing of some of the more spectacular sights of the cosmos, and Finn stretched out, watching a supernova remnant slip by. He took another sip. So this was how she rolled now. Nice, but he couldn't take what came with it. He had to have to leave this behind. He needed out.

His phone chirped. He'd only broken radio silence ten minutes ago, so that was fast. Finn glanced at the display - "Incoming: FLYBOY" - smiled and tossed the phone onto a low table, for it to throw up a holo of the caller.

"Yo!" he announced to the image of Poe Dameron, AKA The Best Pilot in the Galaxy. Damn, he wished he had half of Poe's knack for self-promotion.

"Dude!" Poe replied, grinning.

"Bro!"

"Finnster!"

"The Dammerman!"

"Mr. Eighty Seven!"

"SpiceBoy!"

"Man, how's it hanging?" Poe asked.

"To my knees, y'know."

"Yeah, yeah. And... uh," Poe raised an eyebrow and lowered his voice. "It's warming up the Ice Queen, huh?"

Finn looked nervously in the direction of the sleeping cabins and bathrooms, where Rey was taking a shower. "Keep it down, dude," he hissed, "She's in the other room. I'll get Force Lightning up my ass if she thinks I'm telling everyone I'm poking the Great Skywalker."

"Yeah, yeah, chill," Poe soothed. "So are you?"

"Man, are you kidding? I told you. She's driving me nuts. Always putting me down, playing her mind games. I can't take her any more. When we're back on Dantooine, I'm out."

"You said that before."

"I mean it. This time I'm done. The Council asked me to do a job and I've done it. I've kept an eye on her, reported to them, that's it. Somebody else can deal with this mess now. "

"You can't fix her, Finn."

"I know it." Finn looked down. "But somebody has to. They were right, she's losing it," he shook his head to banish an image of the fresh faced young scavenger in the Falcon, laughing. "She doesn't want me here anyway."

"Good, then it's settled by mutual agreement."

"Yeah. It's agreed."

"Looking forward to having you back man. Back here."

Uh, oh.

"I don't have any plans yet."

"Come on, get the old team together again. The deadly duo, Finn and Poe."

"I don't know. I'm going to take some time out, figure out my options. I've got a few things going on." Not exactly true; he had no idea what he'd do or where he'd go after Dantooine. What kind of career opportunities were open to an ex-First Order Stormtrooper, ex-Rebel fighter? He'd probably end up working security again. Bodyguard if he was lucky and called in some favors. "Anyway, you've got the flying academy, you're busy."

"Not too busy for you, man."

"Yeah, I don't know..."

"I miss you, man."

Shit, there it is.

"Poe, dude. I miss you too. But...," go on Finn, say it, "Things aren't going to be like they were."

"They could be," Poe insisted.

"Come on, bro. We've been over this," Finn said gently, "It was great, but that was then and now... I'm in a different place, now."

"Yeah, yeah, right. Ok..." Poe tailed off and looked away for a moment, before straightening up and collecting himself to continue with something resembling his usual confidence, "And so am I, in a different place. Life is good. I got them lining up for a piece of Poe. The students, they worship me. Babe from Togruta, had her in the X-wing this morning. Her idea."

"Ok, great," Finn said. "I mean, highly unethical, but... ok."

"Yeah, well Poe Dameron never plays by the rules." Poe said with a sly smile. "So yeah, I'm good, was just putting it out there, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Finn assured him and held the gaze of the holo, "Man, we'll always have Yavin."

"Yeah. We'll always have Yavin." Poe nodded, gazing back. He paused for a moment before continuing. "And when you see Queen Cranky, tell her she's a thief."

"Ok."

"BB was mine. The shit she gets away with is unbelievable. Saving the galaxy should only get you so far, you know?"

"You're preaching to the choir, man."

"And I end up with 3PO? That was the worst trade deal in a history of weird, shitty trade deals in this galaxy."

"So, umm, how's he sounding now?" Finn asked.

"Kinda sexy," Poe said brightly, and pondered the situation a moment. "I think 3PO is a she now. It's confusing, I tell ya, but that female voice unit was the best thousand creds I ever spent."

"You were going insane," Finn sympathized. "That was another one of her mind games, bro, for sure."

"It's incredible. Everything that drove us nuts before suddenly became cute and endearing. Did I tell you the crew put me on their shoulders and we did a victory lap of the base after I installed it?"

"It was genius, man. The original designers were just..." Finn struggled for the words, "Sadists."

A noise from the sleeping quarters caught Finn's attention.

"She's coming, dude," he said hastily. "Catch ya later."

Poe's holo pointed at Finn and scowled. "Tell her to stop taking what's mine and get fu-"

Finn snatched the phone from the table, breaking the call as Rey entered the cabin, towelling her hair dry. She sprawled across the curves of the sofa opposite, wrapped in a huge gold bathrobe that matched his.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"Poe. Sends his love."

"Yeah, right. He's never got over the fact that I flew the Falcon better than him."

"That's debatable," gods, she was insufferable.

"And that I never fucked him," she continued drying her hair, "Seems everyone else has."

How much did she know? Finn thought they'd kept that super discrete. A subject change was in order. "This thing is amazing," he gestured around at the shuttle interior, "It's a Beltane?"

"Yeah, new model."

"Wow," he whistled.

"I need it," she said, "You've seen how it gets out there. I need somewhere to decompress after a mission. We should try the spa - supposed to be spectacular. Anyway, the Council should be kissing my feet, never mind giving me a shuttle."

"They did kiss your feet." Finn recalled, "You made them. You force choked the shit out of that guy."

"Really? That actually happened?"

Finn watched Rey as she laughed, trying to piece together memories, "That must have been right after the fall of the First Order," she reasoned, shaking her head. "Fuck, those were crazy times. I was so out of it. Like, permanently off my head."

Her expression darkened as more of those days came to mind. Bitter, confused days that were better forgotten.

"Bad times," she breathed.

"I know."

"Oh, really," she replied coolly, then looked away, "You weren't there. I'm not sure I ever told you what it was like."

"Sorry," he said, and regretted the apology immediately. Was she really opening up to him or was this just another one of her manipulations? Was she going to turn on the waterworks in a minute and look for more sympathy? Remember: you're leaving this scene. It's the best thing for you.

"Those were difficult times for you," Finn said, playing along.

"Yeah," she said and forced a smile, "but you're here now." She hesitated before continuing. "That thing just now, with the girl, and the boy and all that. Sorry you had to see it. Knights and Sith look younger every year. It got to me."

This was the first time Finn could remember her displaying an awareness that her behavior was out of line or turning to the Dark. "Do you ever think of taking a break from this?" he asked.

"All the time," she said. "But they're all depending on me. The Council, the High Guard, everyone. I'm the only one that can bring The New Glory. Who else is going to do it?"

"Nobody," Finn conceded. Here she goes again.

"Right. Only me. The last Jedi. The last Skywalker. Or Palpatine."

"Rey, the chosen one." He could barely conceal his mocking tone. "It's always down to you, isn't it."

"Yeah," she mused, oblivious to his irritation, lost in thought. "Nobody else is up to the job. I have to save the galaxy again. It's my destiny. They all say so. Everyone says it."

She was gone now, chewing her lip, playing with the cords of the robe, staring intently at the vista displayed on the screen. Was that a new tattoo on her wrist? It looked like the same design as the one on her left shoulder. Sometimes, in these moments of peace, Finn could see the girl from Jakku again. The scavenger, the survivor with the fire and the dark in her eyes.

Stop, dude! You're getting out, remember?

"You said you didn't want me around on these missions," he took another sip. "I was holding you back."

"Finn, I didn't say..." Rey trailed off into silence before collecting herself and continuing. "I think it's better if you don't get into combat situations. You could support me from here though."

"Right." No thanks.

"I don't need any help kicking arse and you're so much better at moral support than the light saber kind," she smiled.

Incredible. He'd spent over a year training with the saber and other Force skills. It had been hard; the Academy was underfunded, understaffed, and had struggled to gather up a decent team of Force-sensitives. Everyone had seen potential in him and so he'd joined out of a sense of duty. For a while he'd even considered the Jedi path, but it wasn't for everyone. Now she was dismissing all of that off-hand. So what had been the point? On the missions they'd shared he'd done as well as anyone could, but they kept finding themselves up against real heavy hitters. She'd lost three partners in the year before the Council had him join her.

"You can be the geeky assistant that stares at the screens and figures out how to access the security systems, turn off cameras, that kind of thing. And I'll get on with, you know, doing the nasty, dangerous stuff." She was warming to the task now, really trying to sell it. "And the cook-unit here needs managing. It does a great roast Porg, you should try it, just like the real thing."

Gods she knew how to rub it in. The fact that he'd wanted this hardly softened the sting of knowing that she had so little respect in his abilities. He couldn't look her in the eye. "Yeah, sure."

"Great. Thanks for being so understanding," she exhaled and laid back, staring at the ceiling. "I can't tell you what a weight off my mind this is. I've been so worried about my FN."

"Right, ok." She never sounded happier than when she was putting him down.

The phone chirped again, and Finn fished in the pocket of the robe. Please don't be Rose. Please don't be Rose.

Incoming: BOOTICOLL.

Shit.

Not in the mood. Decline, decline. He could handle her later.

Rey was diverted now by something on her tab, thank the Force. Finn laid back - damn this thing was comfortable - took another sip of Merenzane and watched scenes of Golden Age Coruscant drift by. Wonder how that roast porg tastes. Whenever the Council guys, or the Guard started banging on about The New Glory or Unifications or whatever, they made them sound really important. Vital to the struggle against the Dark Side. Essential in ensuring that the galaxy existed in peace and ushered in a new age of harmony. So Rey's mission was really, incredibly important and by extension making sure the meals were tip-top, the drinks cabinet well-stocked, the spa always supplied with freshly folded towels, that was also super-important. It couldn't be left to just anyone. It needed-

Stop! Don't get sucked into her shit. You're out, dude. The galaxy awaits.