This one is inspired by a request from reulte.
It's not quite what you wanted (flight:Sinker) but I am in love with this poem and thought your request was a perfect excuse to use it. You also get two extra words as a thanks for your interest and kind comments.
The excerpt is from the poem "Ashes" by Vasko Popa, found in English in his Homage to the Lame Wolf
Disclaimer: See ch.1
Each night sets fire to its own star
And dances a black dance around it
Until the star burns out
Then the nights divide themselves
Some become stars
Other remain night
…
The last night becomes both star and night
It sets fire to itself
And dances the black dance around itself
Sinker wakes recalling strange, directed spinning, gravity-less flight.
He's talked with Boost who shudders at the memory of the droids floating toward them. Sinker doesn't remember that.
Sinker remembers the wild tapestry of stars; close enough to taste and too far away to imagine. They spin and dance behind his closed eyes; massive, insubstantial, red, yellow, blue, white. Sinker was more alive in the lifeless-space between stars than he'd ever been. He's read that ancient Mandalorians shot their dead war-beasts into stars. Sinker hopes to be flung into that macrocosm at the end and drift through the frictionless eternity into a star.