ishotfirst | (no subject)

"You said you wanted a tour, didn't you?"

fwoom

Suddenly, she's alive. Power springs to the controls in front of, behind, above, and around Ben and the panels light up, various states of colored keys and blinking lights.

There's a vibration.

It's power.

Han strides over and hops into his chair to Ben's left and leans up to the comm.

"Solo requesting hangar bay X19 access for hyperdrive test flight, blast doors open please?"

"Yes sir."

Those hangar doors at the far end move after a second and it's just black.

It's unsettling.

Unsettling as all hell, is what it is.

Ben's eyes move from panel to panel, and he works to keep his expression carefully neutral, though his right hand fists into the side of his pant-leg.

And then the doors open.

And Ben stares.

" -- looks a little different'n it does from the ground."

Or a lot.

"Without the atmosphere to distort the lightwaves, they don't blink. The lights in here block out the stars. When we get out there you'll be able to see the stars."

Han glances over.

"Y'might want the seatbelt on before we get goin'."

He taps at his own hip, and if Ben looks at his chair he'll see the end of the belt and get the picture.

Han waits.

Patiently.

Sort of.

(The Falcon does take three minutes to come up to full power, anyway.)

Tearing his eyes away from so much nothing, he looks over and nods.

Seatbelt.

Huh.

He grabs the belt and only fumbles for a split before it clicks into place.

Almost cheerfully, "We hit somethin' and I get stuck in this contraption, I'm blamin' you."

"We hit something and it knocks the grav spanners loose, you'll be glad you have that on."

No, he's not going to explain why.

Unless Ben asks.

Han's not wearing his seatbelt. In fact, he's up again and wandering around the cockpit. Flicking switches again.

"General, you're clear," the comm crackles. "Expected return time?"

He slides back into the seat and hits the button. "Ah, just taking her out for another test run, see if I managed to fix the hyperdrive engine I blew last time out or if she needs more work. Won't be too long."

"Have a safe flight sir."

"Yeah."

He rolls his neck around and then takes control of the stick, leaning very, very gently on the throttle.

It's like they're floating (because they are) towards those big open doors.

Eyebrow.

"What happens when that happens?"

Listening to the exchange, a second eyebrow joins the first.

Wryly, "Blew out an engine. Sounds awful safe'n — "

And they're floating.

Hovering.

And moving.

Ben's fist curls tighter against his knee.

But he's grinning, just a little.

"She'll hold together," he promises. "I just pushed her a little too hard."

It's like a horse. Sort of.

Floating. Hovering.

Slowly.

"And well, if the grav shift goes then the ship doesn't compensate for which way is up and which way is down, so you get really turned around and it's just not fun at all. Haven't blown that in a long time, though."

And then they pass the edge of the doorway and it's nothing but black and pinpricks of stars.

Slow.

Slow's good.

Easy.

It's kinda like riding a horse — only not.

"Well, let's hope like hell that don't — "

And then his eyes widen, just a little.

Looks a lot different from here.

"You think the Falcon is big?"

Han nudges the thrusters to spin the ship around, so now they're falling backwards.

Away from the hangar and the ship they were on.

It's huge.

Goddamn.

A quiet, impressed chortle.

"'Bout how many folks live on this thing?"

"Couple thousand? She's the command ship."

There are others. None of them are quite as big. Some smaller shuttles are scurrying back and forth like cars crossing busy intersections. The fleet isn't on the move, though, so as they drift back, he turns them around that way he doesn't actually hit anything.

The sensors would warn him anyway, but it's always good to be sure.

"So you wanna start off with a bang or a bang?"

Couple thousand.

Twice the size of Dodge City's population floating right there.

At Han's question, Ben looks over.

And grins.

"You even hafta ask?"

"Astral."

Han winks.

"You should probably hang on to that hat, then."

He doesn't go directly into hyperspace. After all, he's supposed to be testing that engine. Not blowing it up again. So he merely throttles up to a speed where the stars don't quite streak and takes off in a straight line.

That grin'll get bigger once he starts doing anything other than 'straight'.

"The hell's ast — "

The rest of the word and the question mark at the end get lost in a short, silent intake of air.

His hand hasn't made it to his hat.

Yet.

"Means wicked. In a good way."

When is being wicked not a good thing, though?

Straight.
Straight.
Straight.
Stra--

Han laughs and jams the stick hard left into a turn. Not a roll, or a spin, just a hard, fast, stick-you-to-your-chair left turn.

"Wick — "

And then Ben gets slung back, hard, against his seat.

"Like fuckin' Lucifer."

That's laughter in his voice.

Han has no idea who Lucifer is, really. Well. Bad guy. Pointy red horns and a tail. Or something. He's seen a few pictures. But that isn't on his mind.

The ship's alive.

An extension of him and his focus is almost zen like.

Except for the possibly evil laughter as he pulls back hard and the Falcon strains upwards, or what feels like upwards, but there's no real up or down in space.

Ben would turn his head to glare and grin in equal measure, but he's pressed into his chair again.

The stars streak by so fast they're hardly more than dotted lines of light in Ben's periphery.

Once he can draw in a breath again, he may be laughing again.

Just a little.

Han levels off and they're still going pretty fast, but he does slow them down a little.

So that Ben can breathe.

Then he does what's completely normal in this situation, while they're hurtling along in a straight line.

He gets up out of his chair and moves to the nav computer behind him.

Ben's eyes slide to the now-empty seat beside him.

Slowly, carefully, he turns and cranes his neck.

" -- you always leave the steerin' up to the boat?"

"Well usually Chewie steers when I get up. Or if we're shootin' things." He glances over at Ben. "She can fly herself until I sit back down."

Han consults a screen, hits a few more buttons, and then frowns.

Hits the buttons again.

Then smacks the panel, hard, with a fist.

zing beep beep beep beep

"There!"

"Right smart technology there, General."

Truthfully, to the former.

Sarcastically, to the latter.

"Ain't she?"

Pride. All pride.

Han grins and returns to his seat.

"Wanna see something else really wicked?"

Honestly, "She is."

When Han sits, Ben looks over and quirks an eyebrow.

"Again, you gotta ask?"

"Well just wanted to give you the chance to back out."

Han looks innocent, then nods, takes his hands off the yoke and hits a button up on the console.

fwoom

The ship spins slightly on her own power to point them in a direction.

And stops moving.