[ Despite making a similar assessment the first time she’d seen it, Rey bristles protectively at Kylo Ren’s comments. That ship was the last thing she had of Han Solo after he’d taken the would-be father figure who’d been its pilot from her. Chagrined, she scowls sidelong at him, then hikes up towards the base of the ship, where the ramp descends to steady it on the surface of its late owner’s home planet. ]
This piece of garbage might save your life. Watch it. [ Her grousing sings in the wake of her moody hike up the ramp, the thud of her boots echoing through the rickety metal frame.
It’s impossible to ignore the bitter metal taste in her mouth that tells her inviting him into this space is a bad decision, is wrong. This was Han Solo’s space, and Kylo Ren killed him. He didn’t deserve to walk the halls of his father’s ship. But if any of this were about deserving, then they wouldn’t have made the strides they already have, and pulling him back from the dark would have been impossible.
He did not have to deserve mercy for it to be given. In fact, if he did, it would not be mercy at all.
She didn’t pause to wait for him, though. Allowing him in here didn’t have to mean welcoming him. Instead, she blazed around the corner of one of the tube-like hallways circling the freighter, looping around to the cramped crew quarters with functional, weak-framed bunks of narrow width tucked into individual closets that sprawled like honeycombs off a central pod on the ship’s port side.
Fur litters the disheveled sheets of one bunk, caught also in the thin joint of panels in the walls identifying the room as Chewbacca’s. Across from it, a small, crudely made doll imitates an X-wing pilot in an orange jumpsuit with a helmet, fashioned wholly of cotton and linen packed together, held together at the joints with thick twine.
She stops in front of the third, lingering near the narrow frame of the door in silent offering. Finn stayed in it last, but it’s not precisely his. To the contrary, he found his place among the other Resistance troops. ]
If General Organa doesn’t move the troops in time, we can load the Falcon up and get past their barricades. [ She doesn’t let the disclaimer I hope come out aloud. Better to sound sure that she can do it. ] In the meantime, you can rest here.
no subject
This piece of garbage might save your life. Watch it. [ Her grousing sings in the wake of her moody hike up the ramp, the thud of her boots echoing through the rickety metal frame.
It’s impossible to ignore the bitter metal taste in her mouth that tells her inviting him into this space is a bad decision, is wrong. This was Han Solo’s space, and Kylo Ren killed him. He didn’t deserve to walk the halls of his father’s ship. But if any of this were about deserving, then they wouldn’t have made the strides they already have, and pulling him back from the dark would have been impossible.
He did not have to deserve mercy for it to be given. In fact, if he did, it would not be mercy at all.
She didn’t pause to wait for him, though. Allowing him in here didn’t have to mean welcoming him. Instead, she blazed around the corner of one of the tube-like hallways circling the freighter, looping around to the cramped crew quarters with functional, weak-framed bunks of narrow width tucked into individual closets that sprawled like honeycombs off a central pod on the ship’s port side.
Fur litters the disheveled sheets of one bunk, caught also in the thin joint of panels in the walls identifying the room as Chewbacca’s. Across from it, a small, crudely made doll imitates an X-wing pilot in an orange jumpsuit with a helmet, fashioned wholly of cotton and linen packed together, held together at the joints with thick twine.
She stops in front of the third, lingering near the narrow frame of the door in silent offering. Finn stayed in it last, but it’s not precisely his. To the contrary, he found his place among the other Resistance troops. ]
If General Organa doesn’t move the troops in time, we can load the Falcon up and get past their barricades. [ She doesn’t let the disclaimer I hope come out aloud. Better to sound sure that she can do it. ] In the meantime, you can rest here.