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"I did not say that!"

Finn laughs at the shock in her voice, especially when she delves into a deep pout and turns her face away from him. He wrap his arm around her, pulling the small girl closer into his chest as she sulks. "You were totally dissing my ship." Rachel rolls her eyes. "And it may not look like anything, but this little racer has got me through a lot."

She gives him a look of incredulity. "I thought pod racing was outlawed?"

He pats the small craft on the side, wincing slightly as a bolt loosens and a panel squeaks open. "Oh yeah, it is. But this baby hasn't been used for pod racing. Just your average run of the mill race." He can feel guilt slipping onto his features with every word. "And, uh . . . my mom doesn't completely know about this ship. She just thinks that I fix it for someone else."

Eyes widening, she gives a light shake of her head. "You, Finn Hudson, are a rebel." She gives a playful poke of his chest, grinning up at him.

"Well," he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "My mom did once tell that my ancestors were once part of the rebel alliance. Maybe it runs in the family."

She slowly pulls away, staring up to Finn in what only can be described as awe. "Really?"

Softly nodding, he runs a hand through his long hair. "Uh, yeah. Did I never mention that before?"

Rachel shakes her head. "No." A smile creeps through, and she tightens her grip on him. "But that's so cool. That you know that far back in your family."

"Yeah, I guess so. Nice to know that my family did some good, right?"

"Oh, definitely!" She gives a long pause, and Finn can see thoughts passing over her expression. "What else do you know about them?" she asks hurriedly after a few minutes.

Now it's time to frown. "Not much. It's my dad's side of the family. So . . . you know, I only know what mom says – she doesn't really like talking about it that much."

Unable to hide her disappointment, she allows a soft sigh to flow from her lips. With her body flush against his, he can feel it exhaling from her lungs, too. He gives a sympathetic sigh.

"Do you two always have to be attached to each other?"

They tug away at the sound of Puck's voice as his own craft hovers to the ground. He jumps out, hoisting off his weathered helmet which between rough hands. "You're gonna make someone sick." He jokes.

"Nice to see you too, Noah." Rachel grumbles, especially as he physically walks between the two.

"Dude!"

Puck pulls a face, then leans closer and start to whisper harshly. "Did you guys hear about this chick?"

". . . What are you talking about?"

"The girl!" Impatience laces his every world. "The one who showed up like two weeks ago – middle of the night . . . covered in bruises and cuts . . .? No? No. Are you serious?"

He struggles to find anything that he remembers, but eventually gives up. A small shrug follows. "Um, I don't know what's going on?"

"Really?" Puck lowers his gaze to Rachel. "Not even you? You love pushing yourself into other people's business."

"Pfft, do not!"

His eyes narrow in disbelieve, nose scrunching up. "Right, whatever pipsqueak." Before he gives her the chance to retaliate, his attention is back on Finn. "Anyway – turns out the reason that she came here is because her planet was attacked."

"What?"

"Attacked?!"

Finn glances down to Rachel, who adopts the same worry that he experiences.

"What planet?"

This is where Puck is less helpful. "I dunno, somewhere on the edge of the System, dude. Like Chora or something."

He leans in closer.

Finn and Rachel do so in synch.

"The thing is, they say she's the only one that escaped."

"Serious?"

"Deadly." His low voice manages to send a cold shiver down his spine. "And the Senators are keeping their mouths tightly shut. Won't say anything to anyone."

His face scrunches in confusion. "Wait . . . then how do you know?"

"Because it's me, dude. I know everything."

Finn settles a glare in his direction.

"Fine. Quinn told me."

"Huh."

He can feel Rachel looking up to him – she's wearing that expression that makes him feel like he's made of glass and not a good foot taller than her. "What is it?" She questions, eyes wide as saucers.

"Do you think Kurt knew, too?" His heart sinks. "Or my mom?

Puck waves away his concerns. "All I know is this is on the down low. And they ain't even saying where this girl is. Crazy, right?"

"It is rather unsettling." Rachel comments bleakly.

But Finn's mind is the epicentre of a whole lot of confusion and uncertainty. His mouth runs as dry as the sands on Tatooine; his breath scratching roughly as it forces itself out. He isn't quite sure what this news means to his friends and family – scratch that, the entire Crusader System – yet he is sure that is isn't good. Not one bit.

"Do you think it's Sue Sylvester?"

The silence that follows is answer enough.

Yet, reluctance sidles their thoughts. "This close to the Crusader System?" Rachel begins.

"Yeah, dude." Puck, for once, actually agrees with her, "She isn't allowed near this place. You really think she's starting a full on war with the Senate?"

Finn doesn't think so – he fears so.

He feels a small hand gently fall on his shoulder and turns to see it belongs to Rachel. The small gestures brings a smile to his lips. "I guess . . . the Senators know what they're doing, right? They're not going to let anything happen to our home."

"Totally. You saw Burt on the Starbase. He may be old but he still has some moves."

Finding himself nodding, Finn becomes somewhat less frazzled. The air becomes less stale and he can suddenly hear the hustle and bustle of the City around him once more, rather than the ringing of his own ears. Yet as he moves his gaze from Puck to Rachel, she appears less confident in their words.

After the bomb that had been dropped on them, Noah stays with the pair.

She would say that he's interfering with her and Finn, but the latter boy has been so lost in his own thoughts that she's thankful for the company. Rachel spends every so often peeking at him to check if the color has gone back to his face yet, while Noah seems to have found comfort discussing other things. Honestly? She's happy for the distraction.

"And that's when I said to him that he can take the ship or I can take his little punk ass. Then take the ship back, too." He holds his hands up smugly. "And you can imagine what he did."

"Reported you for threatening behaviour?" She folds her arms across her chest, highlighting her boredom.

He glares yet isn't thrown off his high horse. "Had him eating right out of my palm then. Got 10,000 credits for that craft. Heck, wasn't even worth that, but I'll be damned if I'll let someone walk all over Noah Puckerman."

She has to resist an eye roll, but she can feel her lips pursing tightly together. "And how often do you swindle people then, Noah?"

He laughs, easing back into a relaxed position. "It's all about business, baby. I ain't doing nothing illegal."

"Sure you're not."

"Besides," he insists, "if it wasn't for the business, I never would have found this little lady." He fondly gestures over to the craft he'd arrived in. "Look at her. N – 1, 3rd generation. She is more powerful than she looks, and sweeps through the air like a knife." The more he talks, the more she finds herself staring in disbelief. What is it with guys and their strange obsessions with ships? "Plus I upgraded her so that has a Solonian tracking system – best in the Galaxy."

"Sounds like you've found quite the woman." She smirks.

"Not a woman." He shakes his find, "she is a lady."

Wow, Rachel thinks.

"Too bad her captain can't keep up with her."

Noah balks. "Excuse me?"

"I saw your piloting back in the outerim – I was not impressed."

He stands now, pacing back and forth with annoyance. "Oh, you wanna talk about my piloting? I wouldn't be so confident if I were you."

"Guys . . ." Finn checks back in upon apparently hearing their raised voices. He peers between the two unsurely, "Can't you just get along?"

"She said I was a bad pilot!"

She finds herself laughing softly, enjoying the way his nostrils flare in anger. "Well, I have eyes, don't I?"

"You are pushing it, Berry."

"Are you going to prove me wrong?" She cocks her head to the side.

"Hell yeah!"

"I don't really like where this is going . . ."

"Name your terms," she ignores Finn's comment, moving to stand too. It does, however, has left of an effect as originally hoped as she forgets her own height.

Noah's eyes narrow, merely a thin slither in the bright sun. "A race. You and me."

"Where?"

"Along the old abandoned tram tracks – they go around the City. Lots of obstacles."

Inside, her head yells and hollers, reprimanding her for being so impulsive, and yet the way her blood runs excitedly around her body makes her feel thrilled and excited. It's almost as though she's holding her lightsaber again, living life by taking risks. "Perfect." She punctuates the words thickly.

"Are you seriously going to race each other?" Finn grumbles.

"Yes." Comes their unanimous response as they settle into a glaring competition.

It's Noah who breaks free, a pearly white smile growing against his tan skin. "Only one problem, Berry."

She does her best to maintain her confident, and most likely cocky, expression – even if inside she lets panic seep in momentarily. "Oh yeah, and what's that?"

Leaning closer so that he feels impressively tall in front of her, he smirks. "You don't have a ship to fly in."

Now she does allow her expression to drop, clearly foiled. Rachel clenches her teeth in annoyance, swallowed with the heaviness of humiliation. She has well and truly allowed her competitive side to win, again. She peers around, as though a ship is just going to magically appear before her. Instead, she has to watch as others whiz past them in the evening traffic. Then as she circles back around, she notices Finn stood closest to his, and her smile returns in its full wonder.

"Finn." She starts sweetly.

While he normally is quite slow on the uptake, his eyes follow her gaze to the small pod craft. It is not the modern and flashy craft that Noah boasts about, but she can see the numerous custom additions and workmanship that's gone into it. "No," he frowns, "no, no, no, No!"

She reaches out for him, taking hold of his hand. "Please, you know that I'll take care of it. I just need to prove that Noah isn't as amazing a pilot as he thinks."

"You can try, but you will not succeed. Especially in that hunk of junk."

"Dude!"

"Don't get your panties in a twist, this is just trash talk, Finn."

Finn looks less than impressed. "Doesn't mean you have to insult my ship. That's like my baby."

"I would never insult her." Rachel interjects, smirking at Noah. He gives a leisurely roll of his eyes.

"Enough talk, we doing this or what?"

Turning her full attention to Finn again, she tries another tactic. "Come on, Finny. Let's prove him wrong and show him that not only I am a better pilot, but your ship is far superior, as well."

"Finny." Noah stifles a giggle.

A punch in the arm swiftly puts that to a stop. "Seriously, bro?" His jaw sets into a hard line, and he eventually turns to Rachel with a sigh. "Fine, you can use it."

"Yes!" She jumps, "yes, thank you." In the midst of her jumps, she manages to little a series of kisses all over his face. Despite his previous annoyance, he manages a smile now.

Even if Noah is in the background making puking gestures.

Finn helps her settle into the pod, fighting his reluctance of seeing someone else drive her. But he trusts Rachel – she's told him more than once about the work she's done before with all kinds of ships. And she totally knows what she's doing. Or that's what he keeps repeating in his head, anyway.

Puck tinkers with his engine beside them, so he takes the moment to lean closer to her. "You ready?"

She looks adorably small in the helmet, especially when she pulls the oversized goggles down over her mahogany eyes. "Ready as I'll ever be." She smiles, sucking in a sharp breath. That's how he knows she is definitely feeling some semblance of nerves.

"Just a word of advice," he says, "Puck flies dirty. Like, be careful."

"Are you worried about me?" She teases.

He smiles softly, "just want you to be prepared. If he thinks he can get away with insulting my ship, then I want him to lose. Badly."

"That can be arranged."

They fall into a comfortable silence as she plays around with the controls, fingers delicately sweeping over the notches and levels that fill the cockpit. He watches her, impressed. "So, you win many of these races before?"

She jerks her head up, clearly surprised by the question. "Um . . ."

Finn catches the hesitation in a flash. "Um? What does 'um' mean?!" Rachel, for once, struggles for words. "Please tell me that you've been in a race before."

"Not exactly like this." She confesses, quick to add, "But it's not like it's the first time I've had to fly a pod under immense pressure. Alas, there is no need to be anxious, Finn. I will be fine. We both will."

"If she gets so much as one scratch on her -"

"Yes, I know." She says softly, voice brimming with affection.

He sighs, "I mean it."

"I promise I will treat your ship as if it – she – were my own."

"Okay."

For a moment, he begins to walk away and tries not to think about what could happen, when he realizes that he totally forgot to do something! With a dizzying spin, he finds his way back to the side of the pod where Rachel is staring at him with a look of surprise.

"Uh, good luck."

Rachel gives the most sincere of smiles, her hand resting over his. "Thanks Finn. You are the best boyfriend."

It may be just a simple word. A word that is used every day. So far the two have been testing the waters of whatever their relationship is, stolen kisses here and there – longing looks when they can't quite be as close as they want to. And like, he hasn't even thought about if they're dating. Has she? Does she talk to anyone about them?

He refuses the let his shock spread through to his expression, instead putting on a forced smile. "Yeah . . . yeah, guess I am. Just win, okay?"

"I plan on it." She beams.

Thankfully, Puck appears to explain their route to Rachel and Finn is given a much needed breather. It's not that he's scared of commitment or anything. Like, he's totally cool. He couldn't be any calmer. Or that's what he says despite his erratic heartbeat.

"Alright," Puck grins. When the clock tower hits 25 past, we go. Capiche?"

The brunette wiggles in the seat and lowers herself into the most comfortable position. "Don't get too upset when I beat you."

Puck resists any further comments, patting Finn's shoulder as he walks past and mounts the seat in his own ship. The visor slowly slides down in front of him, sealing him off from the other two.

Stepping back, Finn eyes the clock just ahead as time slowly ticks away. Both ships lifts their wheels, tucking them away neatly inside the small bodies, which now hover in waiting. He steadies his nerves the best he can, but the world feels deathly still. Not even the slightest of winds flurries past on the high building that they occupy.

The second he sees the 25 in front of him, he hears the rush of their engines to start, and they're off. Left behind is a trail of smoke so thick he splutters over it for a few moments. As it clears, he stares off into the distance where their ships follow decrepit track lines.

His best friend and his . . . well, his girlfriend.

He just wishes that latter didn't scare him so much.

Concentration is etched over every inch of Noah Puckerman's face, eyed narrowed forward while his hands dance across the control panel in a rehearsed display. He has his eyes on the prize, which of course is not anything more than bragging rights, but a solid victory nonetheless. The steering vibrates excitedly between his calloused hands, while the whirring of the engine clouds his ears.

As he nears a bend, he leans right with the ship and she curves beautifully to the side. Just to show off, her spins her horizontally until the world before him dances away dizzily. "Try doing that, Berry."

The track is the perfect arena to show what his ship can do, ducking and weaving between abandoned crates and old tunnels.

He can barely keep the grin off his face – this is the shit that he lives for.

Barely a few metres behind, Rachel too sits as a focused sight. The ship may not be hers, but she picks up its controls pretty quickly, and she too takes each movement with ease.

She rolls her eyes are Noah does a series of rotations in his ship, no doubt for her benefit.

"Show off." She scoffs, flicking a nearby switch and doing her best to reduce resistance. Finn's ship is not as slender as Noah's, the air flapping harshly against its bow as they move hurriedly through the course. If she's going to win, she needs to get creative.

She gets a break as Noah is slowed by a passing citizen, who screams angrily at the boy in some language she hasn't quite heard before. Still, the moment only allows her to catch up on his right. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she sees him clutching at his own steering, knuckles white as the surface of Hoth and teeth gritted ever so tightly.

Noah notices her, frown deepening. He has mere inches on the girl and so tried to steer her into a nearby building. "Hey!"

But she lowers herself out of his reach just in time, reacting without even thinking. In fact, she moves exactly under his ship, hidden so he could only notice if his scanners picked her up. "Gotta do better than that, Puckerman."

"Exciting show?"

Finn spins around from where he was sat glued to the two racers to find a familiar blonde staring back at him.

He shrugs. "Just Puck trying to win at racing, as usual. Somehow he's dragged Rachel into it."

Quinn lowers herself to the wall next to him, her hair blowing softly in the breeze. "And you're surprised by that?" He shakes his head softly, giving a half smile. From spending these past few weeks with Rachel, he's quickly learned that the girl embraces her intense and competitive side, even if it is terrifying to him.

"Who's winning?"

"Puck. But barely."

She nods, pausing briefly to inspect her cuticles and then she gazes back up to Finn. "I am sure I will hear all about it." There, she gives a liberal roll of her eyes – there is a fondness that lies there though, one that she never did when it was about him.

"Are you saying that Puck would brag?" A series of low laughs follows, and even a smile graces Quinn's lips.

The girl watches intently, that cold stare focussed on the action. "She's alright." And he knows that in her language that is pretty much the best compliment Rachel could get. "Still not as good a racer as one Finn Hudson. Do you remember when we went to Batuu as kids?"

He peers to her, tilting his head. "Where?"

"You don't recall?" Quinn asks fondly. "We were maybe five or six, and our dads took us on some trade route inspection in the outerim. You snuck off to watch the podracing – I went after you. They even let you enter the race and you would have won if that damn farmer hadn't stuffed your engine with illegal crops."

He probes and scours his mind, only able to allow small memories of that day to flash back, but with the picture becoming clearer, his smile grows. "Oh yeah."

"We got in so much trouble when our dads found us."

Finn begins laughing loudly, as though the joy of that race as a kid still runs through him now. "That was a good day." He lowers his head. "Everything was simple, you know?"

She doesn't say much. That doesn't stop her penetrative eyes from looking right at him.

"What?" he mumbles.

"Nothing." Quinn fidgets her hands together, almost vulnerably. "You're right. Things were easier back then – that was before I found out I was force sensitive and we still went to school together. Before my dad started putting all this pressure on me to be perfect." She sighs. "Almost makes you wish you could go back, huh?"

He thinks about it. Like, what would happen if they could revisit that day? Live it out over and over, and avoid the strife that comes with age. Then he glances upwards towards Quinn, and his lips curve downwards. "You know, you think that would be good. But I'm not so sure . . . back then I still thought moons were made out of cheese."

She smirks, reaching out a hand and placing it on his arm. "You always did make me laugh."

"That's because you thought I was an idiot." Those words come out more cutting than he'd hoped. Quinn quickly retracts her hands, sighing.

"Guess it's a good thing that you've found someone else, even if she thinks she can beat Puck in a ship race." Her coy smile grows. "Normally he is all talk, but I've got to back him up on this one."

"No way. Rach will beat him. Just you watch."

She is so not going to win.

Rachel comes to that realization the fourth time she tries to overtake Noah and the ship takes a rather undignified hit from her competitor. Turns out Finn wasn't lying – Noah definitely seems to share her competitive side.

Though he doesn't have anything to prove.

She fears more is on the line than winning just some little race, even if it's only formed from pressure she has stupidly placed on herself. She wants to win. No, she has to win.

This time the nudge she receives almost sends her flying into a fruit cart. Mangoes and melons batter the cockpit of the ship, momentarily blinding her vision. When she comes about, Noah has taken a luxurious lead. Her expression angers, breathing deepening as she tries to control her emotions.

But she feels the familiar bubble of frustration beginning to inflate. Rachel knows all too well that it won't take long until it bursts. She will fight it – she's determined to. She cannot let herself be swayed so easily.

She still needs to win, though.

Her eyes are set straight forward, so intense that she wouldn't be surprised if they burned a hole in Noah's ship.

Wait.

That's it!

If he can play dirty, then so can she. Or, just enough to even things out, anyway.

And so she does the only thing she can think of. She pushes all of her feelings back down, trying to find a sense of calm and cautious amongst the sea of negative feelings. Just like she's learned.

Then she calls out to the force.

To do, well, something.

She calls and calls, but she may as well be mute.

Once again, there is no answer.

And those emotions are fighting back.

As the war inside her rages on, she thinks back to a conversation with Finn about the force – finding ways to utilise those undesirable feelings into something . . . better.

"Come on." She mutters to herself. "Don't do this, Rachel. You know if won't work out well."

But as she catches up to Noah again, a rather unceremonious shove jolts her into a reaction. She finally embraces the anger and frustration that swells inside, focussing on the intensity of it, and with that she sets her gaze firmly on Noah's engine. Rachel closes her eyes, breath shallow and lost in another world. Her teeth tug so hard on her bottom lip that she has the sweet taste of blood in her mouth, and she continues.

Until she can see his engine.

And her outstretched hand squeezes into the smallest of fists.

That's when she hears it.

A deafening creeeeeeaaaaaaaaakkk follows, and she's zooming past Noah's pod before she even gets the chance to register what she's just done.

Just ahead, the finish line approaches.

Noah's eyes widening as alarms ring in his ears, with levels dropping at an impossible rate.

"Fuck, fuck – what the fuck is happening?"

Flashing red inside his small pod, his controls malfunction on every count. Engine fail. Engine fail. She repeats over and over.

The ship is dragged forward by the momentum of Rachel's as she surges by, until the forces of gravity and resistance team up against him.

And then he's falling.

He hits everything that he can, brain scrambling to comprehend the events occurring, and figuring out a way to save his damn life.

"Emergency protocol!" He screams, pulling desperately at the thrusters.

"Engine fail."

"Emergency –"

"All emergency protocols have been suspended."

Puck hits and punches at the controls. "You piece of space junk!"

"Yeah, that was a good day." Finn grins toward Quinn. "Hey, what about when we set all the sprinkler systems off in the Senate building." Laughter quickly follows, joined by the blonde.

She shakes her head. "I can't believe we got away with that. Everyone thought it was Puck."

"Oh yeah – he got the mother of all punishments for that. Feel it's okay though, seeing as most of the time when he had done something he didn't get caught."

"Like convincing you to steal the millennium falcon?" She sets her icy blue gaze in his direction, "more than once."

Finn nods. "Exactly stuff like that – didn't really take him long to convince me of that one though. Have you seen that ship?

"Finn, it's a courier ship."

He bolts up, offended. "That ship has fought in wars."

"And it has the laser holes to prove it." She folds her arms, "if you ask me, it's a rickety flying piece of trash."

"I can't even begin to tell you how wrong you are."

"Least it's better than Puck's ship that he's enamoured with. If I have to hear one more thing about Serenity I swear to – oh my god!"

The way her tone changes so quickly startles Finn away from gazing at the sky. "What's wrong?"

But she is already pointing off to the distance toward Puck and his ship. Correction, his falling ship. Finn can see the trail of smoke lining their way and his heart seizes in fear. "Crap."

"We need to do something."

"He's dropping too fast." Finn shakes his head. Despite knowing that it's all in vain, he runs as fast as he can to the building's edge.

The finish is moments away.

Yet Rachel's eyes focus behind her and not forward. She can see smoke billowing upwards, black and heavy with increasing intensity. It looks a lot worse than it had merely seconds ago.

Then she comes to realize that in fact it's only smoke that she can see and not Noah's craft.

"Oh no." Her heart sinks, voice laden with regret. Surely the engine isn't that badly damaged, is it?

She tears her gaze back forward, to her victory, and then behind again. It's barely a decision as she pulls back swiftly on the steering and spins herself around so quickly that she almost gives herself whiplash. As she ploughs forward toward the blackening sky, she experiences a sensation that unfortunately isn't the first time.

"What have I done?" She whispers.

"Ship falling."

Puck slams his fist against the controls. "I know we are falling!" Sweat gathers on his forehead, heart racing so quickly that he fears it might beat out of his chest. As the descending ship gains momentum, he feels sick to his stomach. Sure, they hadn't been crazy high, but this is gonna hurt like a bitch. And if he has to stay in medical again his mom is gonna kill him.

Well, if this doesn't kill him, anyway.

He lifts the visor, gasping at the feel of the wind cutting past his skin. It screeches in his ears, while the smoke creeps along his airlines until all the air is pushed out. "Fuck," he mumbles, "fuck, fuck, fuck." Standing unsteadily, he twists and leans over the engine panel, fingers scrambling to pull it off and look inside. Which is harder than he'd imagined when this damn ship throws itself around. But he bangs and hammers at the metal until it flies open. The hatch flaps wildly in the wind, though he still manages to see inside, and the engine does not look god. In facts, it looks pretty fucking terrible.

His freefall moves into his last few moments, even as he desperately tries to fix the clearly done for engine.

Puck starts to think maybe he should prepare himself for the impact, save a few bones here and there.

But he doesn't get the chance.

Fast as a flash, another ship darts through the air and literally crashes into his. He cries out a series of profanities as he's launched forward and onto the bow of Finn's smaller pod, his arms and legs angled awkwardly on the front. Blinking, he stares up to the concentrated face of Rachel, then back to his own ship which bounces off hers and ricochets toward the planet's surface.

And he watches it as though in slow motion, with a heavy, heavy sinking inside of his body. He's so out of reality that he barely notices when Rachel slowly lands the battered pod of Finn's. Nor when she yanks herself out of the seat and moves to ask him if he's okay. Puck can only stare at his broken baby.

Eventually, the ringing in his ears becomes subsides. He sucks in what feels like the first breath in hours, and he blinks.

"Noah." She must have been saying his name for a while now 'cause she looks real concerned. Her hand sits gently on his shoulder only to be shrugged off. "Are you okay?"

He clears his throat. Peering around, he notices that she's moved him into a more comfortable position on the ground. Puck clutches at the sparse, dry weeds beneath his finger tips. His eyes follow the low lines cracks in the ground to where his ship lays as a pile of space junk, the smoke rising upwards in wispy lines of gray.

"I can't believe she's gone."

Again, he feels Rachel's persistent hand on his shoulder, only he misses the guilt that flashes across her eyes.

By the time Finn and Quinn make it to where they're say, Puck is mostly recovered, even if his ego has taken somewhat of a hit.

"My mom is gonna kill me." Puck grumbles to Finn as they stare out in mourning at the ship. "Do you know how long I had to save for all those parts?"

"Yeah, it sucks dude. Where did you get them, anyway? Must have been some really dodgy place for the engine to just implode like that?"

He shakes his head, confused. "I got them from Catlow. She ain't never steered me wrong before."

"Catlow?"

"That's what weird." His forehead wrinkles as he delves deep into thought once more.

Quinn interjects from his other side, "it hardly matters now. At least you're alright.

"Yeah. I can't believe I'm saying this but Rachel really saved my ass." All three move in turn to look at where the small brunette had been stood moments ago, only to find Finn's helmet discarded on the floor.

Finn frowns the deepest of all three. "Rachel?"

She rushes past everyone that she sees, trying with all her might to return to the safety of her room where she doesn't have to look at Noah, or Finn . . . or anyone.

Thankfully for her, the halls are relatively empty. So when her unsteady legs come to a halt, there is no one to witness it. Even as she throws herself back against the harsh, silver wall, and attempts to control the tornado of emotions inside of her.

"Bad day?"

Rachel jumps at the sound of Jesse's voice, eyes widening and jaw setting firmly. "What are you . . . – how is this possible?" The girl blinks. "How are you here?"

The corridor may be dim and her eyes blurry, but she can see the smirk growing on his lips. "That's no way to greet a friend."

She scoffs. "You're not my friend."

If he's upset by her words, he doesn't show it. He leans back against the wall. As she stares, mind still muddled and unsure, she notices that his form casts no shadow. "I felt you."

"What?"

He flashes her a toothy grin, tongue darting out between his lips momentarily. "Using the force. You know, it's strange – it's actually the first time I've felt that since we got here." He looks away from her although she is still clearly the subject of his thoughts. "Almost like . . . they haven't been training you." Jesse shrugs, "which is just as I thought."

"You don't know anything." She says harshly.

"I know that you didn't use the force for good, Rachel."

She recoils, fighting the tears that attempt to break free. "I don't know what you're talking about."

This only encourages him more. Pushing himself slowly off the wall, he moves ever so closer, eyeing her up and down. "I felt the disturbance in you." With a frustrated sigh, she spins around and in the entirely opposite direction of his sleazy sneer. "Deny it all you want, Rachel, but sooner or later someone needs to train you." There's a long pause, so long that she fears he may be gone. And then she wonder why she would fear that. "Train you," he continues, "before you hurt yourself . . . or someone else."

Rachel gaps then. She moves swiftly to set a dead glare toward Jesse, to argue that she isn't that kind of person, but he's already disappeared. And once again she's alone with her thoughts.

Thanks again for reading! Stay tuned for more.