Regrettably there was no friend or dinner, just the usual route Rey took when she ventured out on patrols. This required a lift... only instead of going up, the mechanism had taken upon itself to move downward.

And down.

And down.

There was no panic, no alarm, no exclamation of outrage or contempt. Not here, not with Rey, not with the clinging presence of familiarity all over again. Half of the time she didn't know how she truly felt about her situations.

Pretty sure this was confusion that had suddenly washed over her when the lift doors opened, revealing the stretched-out hallways that had been previously unknown to her. And Rey had begun to know this ship well.

"Oh."

Here we go again, she figured when the confusion ebbed and she stepped forward. Somehow, in the middle of the senseless, this somehow made sense in an insane sort of way.