NAVIGATIONAL ADJUSTMENT
The kid was sucking on the tiny steel mythosaur skull, watching him curiously, and Din allowed his muscles to relax a little. His head was still hurting, but at least he wasn't bleeding out any more. Cara had said he had gotten his bell rung, and that was the understatement to beat all understatements. It felt like several bells were clanging loudly in his head, and he was starting to feel dizzy and even a little nauseated.
The fury and adrenaline and the accompanying high of his struggle on Moff Gideon's TIE-Fighter was gone now, replaced by sharp, cold pain and utter exhaustion. It was odd that he really hadn't had much trouble digging a proper grave for Kuiil, much less to fly away from Nevarro, but now he wanted to lie down and sleep for a couple of months.
"Okay," he said, causing the child to stop sucking and look at him, cooing softly. "My head is killing me. I should probably stop somewhere and get some rest. Preferably while lying down. Heavily sedated." He started a quick search of places to go to lay low for a bit and recuperate, and drew in his breath when Sorgan's location came right up as the closest place to land.
He readjusted navigation and set the course for the little green planet, masochistically allowing himself to think for a moment about Omera. He usually refused to think about her while awake, but he couldn't keep her out of his dreams. Not even trying to chase her away had helped—that always led to her catching him, which led to him succumbing to pure need (and why did she have to be so damned willing?!) and waking up overheated and elated.
When she had started to lift his helmet away, he had come within inches of allowing it and staying on Sorgan forever. He knew life with Omera would have been good. Peaceful, uncomplicated, comfortable… satisfying. With love and and companionship and good food (he would have to go hunting for something besides fish and krill, of course) and kids and a real life, but that damned bounty hunter had to ruin everything. Which is sort of a bounty hunter's job, really, but he saw no reason to dwell on that too much.
He was seeing double now, and thinking about foolish things.
"So I'll just avoid her. That would be best for… for her. I'll land on some… some other side of the planet, right? Some place where you can run around and catch frogs… and enjoy some fresh air and sunshine… and… and I can lie down for a bit and kill off this headache before it kills me. Just don't make me watch you eat the frogs… "
The kid continued sucking on the tiny piece of steel, but he was starting to look a bit concerned. Particularly when Din took the helmet off and settled his head back against the seat, groaning from the pain and exhaustion.
Din managed somehow to navigate into the planet's atmosphere and get to a clearing to land, but he was less than steady—the Razor Crest landed with a heavy thud, sending birds wheeling into the sky and forest animals running for their lives. He somehow managed to turn the engines off before settling back in the chair and drifting off to sleep, unable to outdo the concussion and blood loss any more.