Safely drifting through space, the crew of the Millennium Falcon breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Rey scrambled from her seat, still high on the excitement of the escape. A sentiment that was dampened when she saw Nova was not sharing in it.
The older woman remained glued to her co-pilot's chair, staring out at the stars, though her eyes were not taking them in. Instead, they saw the darkness between them, allowing her mind to become lost in it.
The scavenger placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder. "You coming?"
Nova started a little at the contact, pulling her gaze away from space. "Yeah..." Her voice was a shell of itself; the news of her friend's death catching up with her. The adrenaline fading away in her veins.
Reluctantly, she pushed herself from her seat, following Rey to the door. There, she hesitated again. Her throat and chest felt tight with restrained grief.
"I'll catch up with you. I just – I need a minute..." she trailed off, already looking to her escape.
Rey nodded in understanding, letting her go without further question.
Nova set off for where she knew the crew's quarters to be, letting her façade crumble. She did not bother to shut the door behind her – she would not be disturbed anytime soon. She could hear her comrades enthusing about their escape down the hall.
Perched on the edge of one of the bunks, she allowed herself to mourn openly. She was no stranger to losing friends – it came hand in hand with the job most days – but to lose someone like Poe was a price she had been unprepared to pay.
Despite what she had tried to convince herself, Nova and Poe had not been simply friends. Over the years, years filled with the most extreme situations for them to share, something had developed. Something deep.
But she had not been ready to admit her defeat and surrender to it.
Even now.
Instinctively, her left hand reached for her necklace, pulling at it until the chain dug into her skin. Her thumb and index finger traced the pendant.
It was a simple, silver heart. The sides were detailed with carved leaves and flowers, delicately forming the shape. It was a small constant in her life; always resting beneath her shirt, never far from her heart.
It had in fact been a birthday gift from Poe, despite her refusal to celebrate it – she was not even sure how Poe found out when her birthday was. But Poe had refused to let her wallow all day, and so the evening had been spent in the hanger with Black Squadron, drinking and playing card games.
Nova came out of that affair fifty credits richer and in (temporary) possession of Poe's jacket.
Before she could further drown herself in mourning, the hiss of something bursting on the other side of the ship reached her ears. And not a moment later, BB-8 appeared to report the situation.
Nova sighed, dried her eyes, and followed the orange and white droid back to civilisation.
---
Rey was already beneath the floor, surrounded by white vapours, scoping out the issue. "It's the motivator. Grab me a Harris wrench. Check in there."
Finn set rummaging through one of numerous, disorganised toolboxes. "How bad is it?"
"If we wanna live, not good."
"They're hunting for us now. And we've gotta get out of this system!"
The scavenger's head popped up again. "Beebee-Ate said the location of the Resistance base is 'need to know'. If I'm taking you there, I need to know!" She caught the necessary wrench Finn tossed her way, disappearing back below the vapours.
On cue, Nova and BB-8 entered, the former carefully sliding herself in beside Rey, tool in hand, in a world of her own.
Finn beckoned the small droid over – hoping he would be more cooperative than Nova, who he was hesitant to talk to for fear of upsetting her further. "You gotta tell us where your base is."
BB-8 beeped, shaking his head.
"I don't speak that," Finn hissed. He had clearly misjudged the droid. "Alright – between us – I'm not with the Resistance, okay?"
BB-8 backed up in shock, his circuits whirring. He looked to where Nova was obscured by vapour, seeking reassurance.
"I'm just trying to get away from the First Order," Finn continued. "But if you tell me where the base is, I'll get you and Nova there first. Deal?"
BB-8 slid his head to one side in indecision.
"Droid, please!"
Rey's head re-emerged. "Pilex driver, hurry." She glanced between the man and the droid expectantly. "So, where's your base?"
"Go on Beebee-Ate, tell her," Finn prompted.
BB-8 hesitated, head whirring as he looked from Finn to Rey, Finn to Rey.
"Please!" he hissed, growing increasingly desperate.
The droid was no closer to making a decision.
Nova too appeared from the floor, pushing herself up to sit on the edge. It would be simpler to let one person fix the leak – it was only a one-person repair job to begin with. But her mind and hands had craved a momentary distraction, and fixing a ship usually helped.
BB-8 looked to her for answers, like a child looking to a parent for guidance.
Nova made the choice for him. "D'Qar. The Ileenium system."
"The Ileenium system?" Rey exclaimed in frustration.
"The Ileenium system, that's the one!" Finn agreed, tossing Rey the Pilex driver. "Get us there as fast as you can." He beamed at Nova and BB-8 giving them both a thumbs up.
Nova brushed it off with a half-hearted, two fingered salute, while BB-8 matched Finn's gesture by way of extending his small welding torch, flipping it to mimic a thumbs up.
"I'll drop you three off at Ponemah Terminal," Rey said from her place by the pipes. "I need the bonding tape, hurry!"
Finn dug back into searching for the requested item, then stopped with a frown. "What about you?"
"I've gotta get back to Jakku."
"Back to Jak – Why does everyone want to go back to Jakku? That place is –"
"It's not that one," Rey cut in, pointing to the correct item she needed.
Finn tried to follow her directions but struggled in his already agitated frenzy.
"No. No. The one I'm pointing to. No. No. No!" Rey was beginning to match his agitation. "If we don't patch this up, the propulsion tank will overflow and flood this ship with poisonous gas!"
BB-8 dipped his head by way of indicating the appropriate tape.
"This?" he asked, picking it up.
"Yes," she said, emphatic. Catching it, she ducked back down to the seal the leak.
Finn discarded the toolboxes, shuffling closer to the edge of the open deck. "Rey. You're a pilot. You can fly anywhere, why go back? You got a family? You got a boyfriend? Cute boyfriend?" He had started to ramble.
"None of your business, that's why," the scavenger snapped.
"Even if you do you can't go back," Nova said. "You've helped three fugitives escape the First Order in a ship stolen from your 'boss'. You think you wouldn't be tracked down and handed over immediately if you went back?"
Rey fell silent, having no comeback for the experienced Resistance pilot.
"Besides," Nova smirked, giving the younger woman another once-over. "We could use someone like you. As a pilot or a mechanic."
The conversation was halted abruptly by the dimming of the lights, and the familiar sound of a system shutdown.
BB-8 beeped nervously.
"That can't be good," Finn said.
"No, it can't be," Rey agreed.
The quartet went straight for the cockpit; Rey taking the pilot's seat again, trying the controls before sitting back, sighing in defeat. They were dead in the water. "Someone's locked onto us. All controls are overridden."
Finn clambered up onto the co-pilot's chair, bracing his hands against the transparisteel of the viewing port, and Rey's head, trying to get a look at the new threat.
"Get off. Get off!" Rey grumbled at his hand on her head; he was by no means light. "See anything?"
The cockpit became bathed in red light as it was pulled into the hanger of a larger ship – some other kind of freighter. From their angle, it was impossible to tell exactly what sort, and therefore what sort of individual it could belong to.
Finn dropped back into his seat, scared and defeated. "It's the First Order."
Nova leaned forward on the seats with a sigh.
"What do we do?" Rey asked, looking between the pilot and the controls. "There must be something."
Finn turned back to Rey. "You said poisonous gas."
"I fixed that."
"Can you unfix it?"
They looked to Nova again, waiting for her lead.
"Best shot we've got," she agreed.
Together, they left the cockpit, dashing back to the common area. Each of them grabbed an emergency mask on route.
The deck was pulled back, and Finn and Nova jumped down first.
BB-8 was passed down next, unceremoniously landing on Finn's chest with a set of distressed beeps.
Rey came last, desperately pulling the deck back into place above them as red light changed to blue.
Systems were back online, and they were about to be boarded.
"Think this'll work on stormtroopers?" the scavenger asked, setting about removing her handiwork on the pipes.
"Yeah. Their masks filter out smoke, not toxins."
Nova slipped her mask over her face, bunching herself up into the corner with BB-8 as much as she could, giving Rey room to work.
"Hurry," Finn prompted from beside her.
"I'm hurrying," Rey assured.
Above them came the distinct sound of hydraulics as the ramp lowered, and the door rose.
Two pairs of footsteps followed – one significantly heavier than the other.
"Chewie. We're home."
Nova froze; heart in her throat, fingers gripping the cuffs of her jacket. Her face became blank behind her mask, eyes staring at the opposite corner of their confined space. Fight or flight – except her only option was to freeze.
She flinched at the clatter of a dropped tool, a sound that had surely given them away.
She looked up, hearing the footsteps growing closer. Watching the scattered shadows through the holes in the grating close in. Until it was pulled away, leaving the group exposed.
Above them stood two individuals: a man and a Wookiee. The former aged with grey hair and tired hazel eyes, while the latter maintained an ageless look – it had always been a challenge to decipher the age of a being that could live for several hundred years.
Nova knew them well; time had changed her to their eyes, but not them to hers.
Chewbacca and Han Solo.
Her father.