liftingrocks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
liftingrocks) wrote2020-01-15 08:27 pm
liftingrocks) wrote2020-01-15 08:27 pm
Entry tags:
a spark of hope [ for Leia ]
There are, at once, too many people and not enough of them. The Falcon is more crowded than it's ever been, but this is the whole of the Resistance.
Rey tries not to think about it, strapping herself into the pilot's seat so she can focus on the singular goal of getting them out of there, but she can't so easily shove the facts from her mind when she can sense them, all of them, and the myriad emotions mingling and bubbling to the surface of her consciousness. People are nervous, and scared, and tense -- not necessarily in that order -- and trying to quiet her mind and shut it all out feels like a battle lost too easily.
Too easy, too, to let the collective fear and trepidation of the gathered Resistance tug at what's buried in her own heart, like a magnet pulling scrap metal to the surface of a pile.
This won't do.
She leaves the controls with Chewie and gets up from her seat, striding with purpose through the hallways. The General burns like a bright thing, a beacon in the Force, easy enough to find even amidst all the bustle of people trying to find something to do, the mental chatter that sounds too much like noise.
"I need to talk to you."
Rey doesn't mean to sound brusque, but the words leave her lips like blaster fire, sharp and urgent. She takes a step back. Tries to gather herself. "If you have a moment," she adds, a little more softly.
Rey tries not to think about it, strapping herself into the pilot's seat so she can focus on the singular goal of getting them out of there, but she can't so easily shove the facts from her mind when she can sense them, all of them, and the myriad emotions mingling and bubbling to the surface of her consciousness. People are nervous, and scared, and tense -- not necessarily in that order -- and trying to quiet her mind and shut it all out feels like a battle lost too easily.
Too easy, too, to let the collective fear and trepidation of the gathered Resistance tug at what's buried in her own heart, like a magnet pulling scrap metal to the surface of a pile.
This won't do.
She leaves the controls with Chewie and gets up from her seat, striding with purpose through the hallways. The General burns like a bright thing, a beacon in the Force, easy enough to find even amidst all the bustle of people trying to find something to do, the mental chatter that sounds too much like noise.
"I need to talk to you."
Rey doesn't mean to sound brusque, but the words leave her lips like blaster fire, sharp and urgent. She takes a step back. Tries to gather herself. "If you have a moment," she adds, a little more softly.