Their Lady Adyé [Star Wars]

Stealing the Falcon

"Are you sure about this, Ben?" The older boy turned to look at his younger cousin, who still stood in the entry to the cockpit, her brow creased with a frown. He threw her a smile that looked an awful lot like one of his Dad's cocky grins. He sighed dramatically when that didn't work, jumping up from the pilot's seat to grab her arm and tug her further into the cockpit.

"It was your idea!" he said with exasperation, pressing on her shoulder until she nearly tipped into the copilot's seat. It felt so big, especially with a wookiee-sized depression worn into the cushioning. Behind them, the trundling sound of Artoo following them fell silent as the astrodroid wedged himself into the cockpit as best he could, managing to plug himself into the Falcon with a cheeky brill of excitement. When he'd first caught on to what Ana and Ben were up to, the squat blue and white droid had tailed them anxiously, burbling and whistling in a decidedly scolding and cautioning sort of way. Sometimes, when Ana concentrated, she could make out most of what her father's droid said, but she'd been too caught up in following her cousin to pay that much attention. But Artoo had quickly warmed to the idea, especially at Ana's pleading. He'd always had a soft spot for her.

"Come on, Ana. It's not like we're going off-planet or anything." Full of the confidence only a twelve year-old could possess, Ben had already settled himself back into the pilot's seat after switching and flicking controls around the cockpit, turning his attention to yet more switches and knobs like he knew what he was doing. Ana wasn't completely sure he did, but he certainly looked like he knew. But then, he was four, nearly five years older than she was, and his father had already let him fly the Falcon a couple times. Her Uncle Han had even shown Ana the basics, sitting her on his lap during his last visit as Chewie looked over Ben's shoulder in the seat the wookiee usually occupied. Not that Ana was a complete amateur pilot either; her own father taking her up in his X-wing had been one of her earliest memories.

With all the familiar clanking and groaning, the Falcon woke up as reluctantly as ever. But, as usual, once she got going, she purred happily as Ana and Ben went through Ben's version of a preflight checklist, with the older boy instructing his cousin in what to do in the co-pilot's seat.

She was a little skeptical of it. Her Uncle and Chewie never went through any such thing. Though, she had to admit to herself that they'd been flying the Falcon together for a long time. Maybe they didn't need to talk about it anymore, and just did it. She didn't know. So she went along with what Ben said to do.

Satisfied that they were ready to go, Ben took a firm hold on the controls, his lip caught between his teeth in concentration as he eased the ship off the ground. He looked nervous, Ana couldn't help but notice with a feeling of trepidation.

But then they were up. Ana quickly lost all reservation as the Falcon rose above the trees, a little shaky at first, but she soon steadied. Maybe Ben did know what he was doing. Behind them, Artoo chattered happily, sounding rather proud of his young charges.

"We're doing it, Ben," Ana burst out breathlessly, unconsciously standing from her seat to peer out over the console. It was amazing. They were flying.

All by themselves.

Pride and excitement bubbled up happily in her chest and she shot her cousin a thrilled look. Ben sat in the pilot's seat, looking smug. Yet again, the expression looked uncannily like one his father would wear. Ana giggled.

"Of course we are, silly," he chided, his tone nevertheless laughing as hers was. "I told you it was easy! Now keep an eye on the vertical stabilizer." Ana plunked herself back down into the co-pilot's seat, looking eagerly over to her cousin before taking hold of the controls in front of her.

"My turn now, Ben," she declared, her eyes roving over the console in search of the switch that would transfer piloting controls over to the co-pilot. Her cousin shot her a look.