If Miro had possessed the presence of mind to converse with the man properly, she'd have expressed that she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. The decision to come to this place and time was both irrevocable and sudden. For all she knew, this might not even be the same dimension in which she began, but wiser minds than hers had expressed that this place and this man was a shatterpoint for the eras to come. Considering she'd gotten the intel from jumpers far beyond this time, she was inclined to trust and have faith.
Unfortunately, trust in the Force did not make for understanding.
The girl attempted comfort; "It'll be alright." It was a sentiment in which she believed, and it allowed her to give some words of succor without getting into the particulars. With what little she knew of this man, a failure on his part wasn't something to mourn.
Inch by inch, they lurched towards her ship with more determination than skill, off balance and listing to one side as often as not, but momentum was a glorious thing and before too long they came to an upwards ramp to safety. Her ship was reliable, if a little small, and the resident T7 wheeled itself to the controls, closing the ramp behind the pair. It had been hers a lot longer than the ship, and Miro valued it highly; she might have been hip deep in the Force, but she harbored an ignorance and discomfort around technology that made T7 the ship's primary crew.
"Set course for Ord Mantell," Miro told the droid, half carrying the man to the nearest seat. "Try not to die," she muttered.
As soon as she had him strapped in, Miro planned to get off this machine-planet and away from the battle.
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Unfortunately, trust in the Force did not make for understanding.
The girl attempted comfort; "It'll be alright." It was a sentiment in which she believed, and it allowed her to give some words of succor without getting into the particulars. With what little she knew of this man, a failure on his part wasn't something to mourn.
Inch by inch, they lurched towards her ship with more determination than skill, off balance and listing to one side as often as not, but momentum was a glorious thing and before too long they came to an upwards ramp to safety. Her ship was reliable, if a little small, and the resident T7 wheeled itself to the controls, closing the ramp behind the pair. It had been hers a lot longer than the ship, and Miro valued it highly; she might have been hip deep in the Force, but she harbored an ignorance and discomfort around technology that made T7 the ship's primary crew.
"Set course for Ord Mantell," Miro told the droid, half carrying the man to the nearest seat. "Try not to die," she muttered.
As soon as she had him strapped in, Miro planned to get off this machine-planet and away from the battle.