[ The tension doesn't drain out of him as Ahsoka actions the machine, his grip white-knuckled on the edge of the terminal. He has his gaze locked on the stars, eyes wide to try and capture every detail, trying as hard as he can to identify anything—anything—that might, just maybe, bring him home.
But there's nothing. No constellations he recognizes, in no script he can read, and Ahsoka just keeps zooming, out and out and out until each planet is no bigger than the head of a pin, stars no bigger than his smallest fingernail. His throat feels tight. He doesn't realize he'd been holding onto hope until it flies right out of him like a freed bird. He ducks his head, feeling foolish. ]
Yeah, whatever. [ Like a rope snapped from holding too much weight, his voice is rough, sharp. ] I don't know what I expected.
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But there's nothing. No constellations he recognizes, in no script he can read, and Ahsoka just keeps zooming, out and out and out until each planet is no bigger than the head of a pin, stars no bigger than his smallest fingernail. His throat feels tight. He doesn't realize he'd been holding onto hope until it flies right out of him like a freed bird. He ducks his head, feeling foolish. ]
Yeah, whatever. [ Like a rope snapped from holding too much weight, his voice is rough, sharp. ] I don't know what I expected.