Poe starts a little at the touch, his attention sliding back to Andor and holding for a moment. It's a surprisingly human gesture, from a man who'd so far not shown much of ... well, not much of anything, really. That in itself isn't particularly surprising; spooks tend to be a cold and calculating lot, but Poe hadn't really gotten that feeling from Andor, either.

For those few seconds, he just holds steady. No nod of understanding or agreement. No denial. Truthfully, for all his love for the New Republic and what it stands for, it's hard to place his trust in people much further than the Resistance itself. He wonders, vaguely, if the gesture is one of empty reassurance, simple hope, or real belief.

When Andor pulls back, Poe releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. One way or another, Andor -- they -- did it. Maybe Poe didn't pull the trigger, but in his mind, allowed ignorance long ago ceased to be a valid defense. He doesn't have time to think of the implications.

He glances at the green light on the ships' board, then watches as the Star Destroyer shifts course. Depending on the recklessness of the Star Destroyer's captain, it might take just under a minute for the huge ship to catch up. It might take two. Less important if --

Ah. Less important, if it releases its TIE fighters. Poe chews the inside of his cheek. "Four minutes to jump."