"The sand'll tear her up," Jaina said, ducking out of the hatch that she was nearly half inside. There was an oil smudge on her cheek that she either didn't care about or hadn't noticed. "Could probably work something up. I've got a few things that might work in my shop, temporarily." That part, at least, felt natural. Working on the ship again was familiar, and she slipped easily back into that mode. She'd nearly called him 'Dad'.
"Probably need to move her somewhere better, eventually. Find a private hanger, or something." Even if they didn't have a fuel to get her in the air, Jaina would be damned if she'd let the Falcon fall apart on her watch.