[ Turning a critical gaze on the man at her side, the fire in Rey's eyes tells a story of the vitriol she wants to fling at him, the doubt she wants to bog him in about his ability to actually use the controls he seizes. But there isn't time for that, nor would it benefit either of them. If he weren't sure of himself, he wouldn't reach for it in the first place: this much, she knows of Kylo Ren. Beyond that, he is a livewire that she would be better off without. ]
I hope you know what you're doing. [ She mutters it reluctantly, turning her attention back to flying, hoping the same of herself. The pursuing ships pick up pace, able to dart more seamlessly through the minefield of debris they find themselves caught in.
Not for the first time, she wish she had Han over her shoulder to coach her in this—he'd have no trouble, the Kessel Run made this cluster of dust look like peanuts—but instead all she has is his estranged and unrecognizable son.
Instead of dwelling on her frustration, she steels herself with the cool-headed resignation of necessity. If she fails, they die. It's an old, familiar fate that she grew to accept on Jakku when scavenging was the only way to seal her fate. That's the worst thing that can happen. If she accepts it as possible, then she's not afraid of it anymore, and it's an uphill climb to better outcomes.
So, when the Bal ships come up level beside them, Rey flies like she's already dead. She reverses the thrust of the engines, rocketing them backwards as the Bal ships zoom ahead to give Kylo Ren a clear shot of them. Finn would do a better job of it. She bites her tongue and dive-bombs the ship, plummeting downward with frightening speed and only slowly adjusting the angle to bring them back up. It cuts cleanly through the vacuum, no atmosphere to rumble the ship's suspension this far out.
Below them, the debris clumps together in larger parts, and Rey whips the ship around one of them to point them directly back at more of the pursuing ships. ]
no subject
I hope you know what you're doing. [ She mutters it reluctantly, turning her attention back to flying, hoping the same of herself. The pursuing ships pick up pace, able to dart more seamlessly through the minefield of debris they find themselves caught in.
Not for the first time, she wish she had Han over her shoulder to coach her in this—he'd have no trouble, the Kessel Run made this cluster of dust look like peanuts—but instead all she has is his estranged and unrecognizable son.
Instead of dwelling on her frustration, she steels herself with the cool-headed resignation of necessity. If she fails, they die. It's an old, familiar fate that she grew to accept on Jakku when scavenging was the only way to seal her fate. That's the worst thing that can happen. If she accepts it as possible, then she's not afraid of it anymore, and it's an uphill climb to better outcomes.
So, when the Bal ships come up level beside them, Rey flies like she's already dead. She reverses the thrust of the engines, rocketing them backwards as the Bal ships zoom ahead to give Kylo Ren a clear shot of them. Finn would do a better job of it. She bites her tongue and dive-bombs the ship, plummeting downward with frightening speed and only slowly adjusting the angle to bring them back up. It cuts cleanly through the vacuum, no atmosphere to rumble the ship's suspension this far out.
Below them, the debris clumps together in larger parts, and Rey whips the ship around one of them to point them directly back at more of the pursuing ships. ]