ishotfirst | (no subject)

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.

And Ben blinks.

There's one beat.

Two.

Three.

"We ain't movin'."

It's like they've frozen completely.

Four.

Five.

Then he slams the throttle forward, hard.

And the stars

bend
streak
blur

"Holy — "

Marymotherofgod

" ... goddamn — "

His fist twitches at his knee, but he resists the urge to grab his hat.

A little bit wide-eyed, he chances a look over at Solo.

Who's grinning his damn fool head off.

And laughs.

Once they've actually jumped and the stars have blurred so much that they're in a blue and purple tunnel of light, swirling around them, the g-force lets up and they're not sticking to their chairs.

Han swivels a bit to face Ben.

"Welcome to hyperspace. We're currently traveling..." he waves a hand in the air as he leans back to do the math. "...about...180...no..."

He narrows his eyes.

"187,000 miles per second. Give or take a few thousand. I forget the exact number."

Ben thinks on that for a long minute, watching the blue and the purple light show outside.

" -- how many horses you think that is?"