sololoquy | open post

You can co-pilot. She's mine.

[To be fair, it is probably a mixture of both. Bravery was relative -- he didn't have any lines, but...well, there wasn't much of Han Solo left in the galaxy. The Falcon was one of the last. And she's his, inherited as only he could.

He'd do a lot of crazy things to protect that ship. He puffs his chest some and straightens his spine.]

I fly. That's a perfectly reasonable concession.

[ Reasonable for anyone else, perhaps. But she isn't anyone else. Kira doesn't make concessions for anyone. He has already gotten to much from her. She studies him, her expression unflinching, but her eyes darting rapidly across his face with a mixture of nervousness and consideration. Refusing him puts her in an uncomfortable position. If he doesn't cooperate, she's not any better off than she had been when she'd first seen him on landing.

But trust does not come easily for her. There's something tense in the pulse of the tendons in her neck as she nods, curt and reluctant. ]

I'll release you when we arrive at your ship.

[There's an uncomfortable pause between them before he relents, some of his bravado deflating as he starts walking again. His own anger was exhausting and made him feel -- wrong. He'd never thought much about it, but it feels heavier when Kira is around.

He leads her through the city, dodging the main road whenever possible. If the wrong twi'lek saw them, they'd inform the Resistance, and that's not what he needs right now. He has a job to do.

Eventually, they reach the docking hanger. The Falcon is the biggest ship in there. and easy to spot as soon as they enter. He nods toward it.]

[ It was a piece of junk.

In fact, it was such a piece of junk that Rey felt sure that it had been a piece of junk by the time Ben was born. And he was old. Well, older than her, anyway. Her eyes narrow. They'd have arrived faster in a First Order vessel. They'd have arrived faster in any other ship than this one. But no, Ben had to fuss about what was subtle. ]

I've never cared for subtlety.

[ She points this out like it might be breaking news to him, then she holds out her hand and uses the force to break the fastenings on his binders. She leaves them behind in the hangar and heads closer to the Falcon.

She doesn't know the particulars of its specs. She'd always been interested in mechanic work, but Snoke had deemed it unnecessary. She was to be a warrior, an interrogator, a machine herself, well-oiled and focused on only the tasks that would serve the Supreme Leader's purposes. Things like this were frivolous. All her interests were. ]

And that's why I'm flying.

[Ben sighs with some relief and rubs at his wrists once she frees him. A piece of his mind notes that she did it with the Force. That could have been his neck, at any point.

Don't think about it.

He approaches and taps the hull to drop the gangplank. He does not wait for her to enter. The ship is certainly showing its age, but it is obvious that Ben takes very close care of her.

And he moves for the cockpit.]

[ She boards without any of the usual reservation of a guest. Climbing the gangplank, she takes it upon herself to close it behind her, and immediately sets about inspecting the ship, nosing around on her way back to the cockpit. Touching things. It's hard to tell if it's curiosity or entitlement. ]

You must not be a very good smuggler.

[ To still be flying this piece of junk goes unsaid, but heavily implied. She settles into the copilot's chair and looks over the controls, trying to get a sense for where everything is. She's a pilot, yes, but she's never flown a light freighter. Why would she need to? ]

You’ve heard of my ship. Can’t be that bad.

[Of course, he is deflecting. The Millennium Falcon was legendary for different reasons, none of which had anything to do wih his smuggling ability. He pats the console fondly, causing the golden dice hanging overhead to jingle.]

Besides, this ship made the Kessel Run in 12 parsecs.

I'd heard it was fourteen.

[ She had, at least, heard of it. Her gaze slides over towards him as she shifts the lever for the fuel mixture. ]

That legend's so old, I though the ship must be condemned by now. It belongs in a museum, not in space.

What? It was definitely twelve.

[He watches her mess with the Falcon, half way between reaching over her for the lever on his own. He ends of aborting the motion with a bit of a sour expression.]

She belongs right where she is -- with me.

[The thrusters slowly, loudly hum to life as the ship begins to lift off the ground and coast forward out of the docking bay.]

[ She spots that look out of the corner of her eye and frowns. He'd been the one to suggest they don't bring stormtroopers, and she'd already relented to allowing him his hands free. As far as Kira was concerned, he had no room for complaint.

That had never stopped Ben Solo, though. She just keeps forgetting to hold him to his own set of standards. ]

The motivator warning light's flashing. [ She points. ] You're going to get us blown up.

Calm down, everything is fine, we just have to--clear the atmosphere.

[He triggers the autopilot so he can stand and twist, prying a panel open to mess with some wires while they ascend. He probably should have done some repairs before letting Kira on -- now she was going to bark at every little light that blinked, even if it was a false flag.

As it turns out, he has obviously done this before. The cockpit is just a touch to small for him, but the way he contorts his spine indicates that this is not the first time the motivator has shouted at him.]

[ Oh.

That's cool.

She's watching him bend now.

Color rises in Kira's cheeks as she catches her eyes lingering on the band of pale skin that is exposed by his shirt riding up at the way he bows over the pilot chair, and she looks away from him quickly on that note. He doesn't need her in this chair, but she doesn't want to feel like she has failed or lost in some way by stepping out of the cockpit. ]

Tell me where we're going.

Where's the fun in that? You'll see when we get there. Won't be a long flight -- bit of a walk though.

[He has to force an old lever upward, but it gets the motivator to stop blinking, and Ben slowly slides back into his seat.]

'scuse me.

[And then he reaches passed her with one of his long, spindly arms to prime the compressor.]

Stop that.

[ She blurts it out in a visceral hiss as he reaches past her and she presses herself back as far as she can into her chair to avoid contact with him. Touching him has always been on her terms, and it has not been while she's grappling with the weirdness of begrudging his earlier attempts to disorient her.

Right about now she's realizing 'attempts' isn't really accurate when they were obviously successful. She's disoriented. She's sitting in his karking ship, gripping the arm rests like she's going to die. ]

[He pauses short of the compressor to look at her and lean back, bewildered. He probably should have expected that reaction, but he didn't. This time, he wasn't even trying.]

Stop...what? Do you have an aversion to hyperspace lanes or something?

Stop treating this like it's fun. [ She snarls it, latching onto that rather than her genuine fear and discomfort. Good to latch onto the anger instead. It kept the Dark Side close. ] We aren't here for fun. You are helping me fulfill a mission. You will not hide things from me, and you will not work around me.

[ She snaps that last part out tightly. ]

If you need me to prime the compressor, you can ask. [ She reaches over to do just that now that he's not all up in her business. ]

[He blinks again, and then slowly lifts his hands in surrender.]

Alright, alright. Stars, you're grumpy. If you don't want to be here, there's a perfectly servicable cot in the back. Or a bench, if that's more your speed.

[Ben does his best not to show all of his exasperation through that exchange. But with the compressor primed, it only takes him a moment to send them into hyperspace with the push of a lever, space blurring and turning blue around them.]

I want answers, Solo.

[ She doesn't let it go, accusations of grumpiness be karked. The insolence in waving her off only rankles her further, in fact, for how opposite it is her prior experiences. Her tempers are not to be dismissed and put into naptime. They're to be obeyed. ]

Tell me where we're going.

[ It's a point of pride now. He'd batted his eyelashes, and she'd gone along with it. She was weak. And stupid. ]

The Umbara system.

[That comes out somewhat exasperated. He was under no illusions that she tristed him, but he can’t really help being put out by her demands. He turns the pilot’s chair around and moves to retreat to the ship’s hull.]

It’s a few hours in hyperspace. Happy?

[ No.

Far from it, in fact. And it wasn't just the threat of going to the Shadow World that chilled her blood. She had never been easily scared, even less by ghost stories and the like. Kira was a ghost story. But the way he leaves, the discontent that rolls off of him as he does. It leaves her feeling discontent. Worse, really, than when she'd been trying to juggle his closeness.

She can't stomach his closeness, but she can't tolerate him walking away. Where did that leave her? She stayed rooted to her seat in the cockpit despite the dismissal. Hours, he'd said. It was too long to be in anyone's company.

It's close to a half hour later that she finally gets up to join him. Works up the nerve, really. She has nothing to offer him. No small talk. But she seeks his company like a lost lothcat anyway, avoiding drawing too close to him, but wanting to linger in the same space. ]

[Ben is holed up in the sleeping quarters, spread on a cot that just barely fits him with his legs crossed, a book in one hand, and his arm behind his head. Its spine is well worn (too worn to make out a title), suggesting that he's either borrowed it from someone, or he's had it for far too long.

When Kira appears in the doorway, he glances her way with a raised eyebrow, turning the book face down on his chest and then resting his arm over it.

By now, he's keyed into the fact that she seems to be made uncomfortable by any displays of affection, even those not so entirely genuine.]

I knew you'd miss me eventually.

[He might have a death wish.]

[ She doesn't reply, too uneasy with the truth and too incapable of the lie. There is no valid reason to be seeking out company at all, least of all his, but here she is. She surveys where he stretches out on the bunk, hovering awkwardly in the doorway.

He's reading. A solitary activity. She prefers the same, but reading was never on the agenda for her. She's never been good at it, and Snoke always discouraged it. Why read when she could just hear it firsthand from him? His knowledge was unquestionable.

She invites herself into the space but settles on the floor by the opposite wall, knees bent in front of her. ]

Continue.

[ She delivers it like an order because she doesn't know how else to put it. She hadn't come to interrupt him. ]

[Man, teasing her is less fun when he feels like he's kicking a confused dog. She sits down and his smirk flickers and dies -- she wants him to keep reading while she's just...sitting there? No way, now its awkward.]

You don't--have to just sit there.

[He turns over to lay on his side so that he can look at her, pinning the book to the bed instead of to his chest. It is clear that her behavior has made him uncomfortable as well.]

I'm making you uncomfortable.

[ She observes it like she might notice that it's raining or that the spinebarrels are blooming or any other number of pedestrian things, none of which are evocative in the slightest. ]

I'm not in your way. Get over it.

[ Serves him right. It's petty and spiteful and she isn't sorry for it at all. ]

That's rich, coming from you.

[He makes a face, lips pursed as he makes a show of opening the book up again to read. Which begs the question as to why he has physical media instead of a holo of some sort.

But as Ben quickly learns -- he's spent more years than he cares to admit being alone on the Falcon. Reading with someone in the room is...extremely distracting.

So eventually, he sighs and gives up, shutting the book and shoving it away.]

What is with you and staring at people though, seriously? What do you do when nobody's around?

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