Holy kriff, a Resurgent-class Destroyer? Jane doesn't know if she should be flattered or mortified. Because, really, a Star Destroyer? It's little overkill if one really thinks about it, but she supposes her brother's done with taking chances and wants her in the First Order's claws, no matter what the cost.

As she watches Cloud move, dread begins to settle in the pit of her stomach. Somehow, inexplicably, she knows they're not going to make it to hyperspace. Either the shields aren't going to hold, or they won't have enough power left to make the jump, or there'll be a tractor beam pulling them in; she can't put her finger to it, but she knows there's a fair chance of any of those outcomes.

So much for making it out alive.

She glances at the controls, searching for the weapons system. No, not enough. Not enough firepower, and more importantly, not enough time. She takes a moment to make sure she's strapped in, before she reaches forward and presses both palms to the console. "Shift all power to the hyperdrive," she instructs, her tone one of deathly quiet and calm. "Then when we get to lightspeed, restore power to the shields."

Yes, she's shielding the Highwind. Manually. With the Force. It's a risk, and above all it's insane, but it'll buy them a few precious seconds. Just enough to guarantee their getaway.