Ahsoka Tano (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
resnipstance) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pencilcase2017-01-09 10:30 am
resnipstance) wrote in pencilcase2017-01-09 10:30 am
atlas stuff
[Once everyone had been accounted for and safely strapped in, the actual take-off was easy. Between Anakin, Breq, Allura, half the crew of the SS Enterprise, and many others, there was no way they wouldn't be able to figure out how to fly this behemoth of a ship off of this dustball of a planet, even if it was alien tech and half-buried in sand. Finding the strange crystals underground that powered the ship had been the turning point to realising they really could escape.
But getting the ship flight ready? That had been an entirely different problem.
There was so much sand in the engines, so many parts to repair. And it wasn't like they could just drive down to the local store and pick up what they needed. Teams were formed to work on the ship. By consensus, some rooms and parts were cannibalized if they were deemed extraneous to survival, used instead to patch up the ship's more vital functions. But with how quickly the ship drained power from their suits, the work, it seemed, would have to be done in shifts. The pace of repairs went at a crawl.
As for Ahsoka-- the slow pace of their progress on the ship seemed to visibly chafe at her. Now that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, she wanted to get going. Her tension and impatience she channeled into organizing the camp with renewed vigor and bossiness. If there was anything that the Clone War had prepared her for, it was organising others with no prior military experience for maximum efficiency. She very suddenly had less and less time for personal one-on-one conversations, instead pouring all her energy into making sure everything ran smoothly.
When Ahsoka wasn't doing her shift working on the ship, she'd busy herself with something else. Usually hunting. (They weren't sure how long they'd be in space-- sure, they had some map data, but with no idea of how fast the ship moved, it didn't mean a great deal. The camp all comes to the consensus to start stockpiling food early on. Of course Ahsoka throws herself into that, as well.)
When she wasn't hunting or gathering, she'd be teaching someone else how. Or yelling instructions at someone else on their shift while she stands from a safe distance away from the ship, waiting for her suit to recharge. Or drawing diagrams in the sand with the other tech-heads and trying to figure out how exactly they're going to solve this or that new technical problem of the day.
As the weeks of prep wear on, Ahsoka only gets bossier and more intense, and her eyes seem to shine with a burning drive behind them-- a need to save everyone. She starts to seem permanently older than her seventeen years, and it's unclear whether she actually ever sleeps. (She can sleep when they're safe.) She and Anakin start fighting about stupid stuff every third day, like about what part to replace, or what food should be stored for the trip. It's their way of blowing off steam, but finding Ahsoka stewing and pacing around the campfire with an air of annoyance becomes increasingly commonplace.
It takes them a month, all up, to get everything ready. The actual flying is the easy part.]
But getting the ship flight ready? That had been an entirely different problem.
There was so much sand in the engines, so many parts to repair. And it wasn't like they could just drive down to the local store and pick up what they needed. Teams were formed to work on the ship. By consensus, some rooms and parts were cannibalized if they were deemed extraneous to survival, used instead to patch up the ship's more vital functions. But with how quickly the ship drained power from their suits, the work, it seemed, would have to be done in shifts. The pace of repairs went at a crawl.
As for Ahsoka-- the slow pace of their progress on the ship seemed to visibly chafe at her. Now that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, she wanted to get going. Her tension and impatience she channeled into organizing the camp with renewed vigor and bossiness. If there was anything that the Clone War had prepared her for, it was organising others with no prior military experience for maximum efficiency. She very suddenly had less and less time for personal one-on-one conversations, instead pouring all her energy into making sure everything ran smoothly.
When Ahsoka wasn't doing her shift working on the ship, she'd busy herself with something else. Usually hunting. (They weren't sure how long they'd be in space-- sure, they had some map data, but with no idea of how fast the ship moved, it didn't mean a great deal. The camp all comes to the consensus to start stockpiling food early on. Of course Ahsoka throws herself into that, as well.)
When she wasn't hunting or gathering, she'd be teaching someone else how. Or yelling instructions at someone else on their shift while she stands from a safe distance away from the ship, waiting for her suit to recharge. Or drawing diagrams in the sand with the other tech-heads and trying to figure out how exactly they're going to solve this or that new technical problem of the day.
As the weeks of prep wear on, Ahsoka only gets bossier and more intense, and her eyes seem to shine with a burning drive behind them-- a need to save everyone. She starts to seem permanently older than her seventeen years, and it's unclear whether she actually ever sleeps. (She can sleep when they're safe.) She and Anakin start fighting about stupid stuff every third day, like about what part to replace, or what food should be stored for the trip. It's their way of blowing off steam, but finding Ahsoka stewing and pacing around the campfire with an air of annoyance becomes increasingly commonplace.
It takes them a month, all up, to get everything ready. The actual flying is the easy part.]
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... Huh?
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Uh...you know...?
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[<--- Point, Ahsoka ---->]
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That's not--I mean. I know, but.
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But what?
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But nothing! Whatever, just forget it.
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You're so weird sometimes.
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I'm weird?
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What-- that's what I said!
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Yeah, well. I guess that makes us weird together.
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... I guess it does.
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Hey. I'll take the rest of your watch. You should hit the sack.
1/2
I prefer it out here.
[A beat. Then--] But... maybe I could stand to rest my eyes for forty seconds or so.
[She leans over ever so slightly, until her head falls sideways to rest on Lance's shoulder.]
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Don't say anything.
1/?? i'm sorry
2/?
Don't move. ]
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4/?
[ That sure was an itty-bitty squeak of alarm. ]
5/?
6/?
What also becomes apparent is how uncomfortable this is. Seriously, ow. ]
7/8
Their hands are still entwined. Softly, he swipes his thumb over the spot where hers joins the hand, then repeats the gesture, sweet and slow. ]
8/8
He smiles, and doesn't say anything. ]