[She tried. She tried so hard to understand the whispers that had haunted him since birth. In the barest seconds where clarity hits his senses rather than resolute, hardened vitriol (memories twisted by his own perceptions, mantras meant to make loyalty the only option) he remembers all those times that her thoughts settled heavy over his own. How she thought she could block out the darkness-- Snoke's hungry, searching reach-- and how wrong she'd been, how much it terrified her, the Dark Side and the Light pooling so fervently underneath his skin.
If he had no faith in Solo's fatherly devotion, his mother, on the other hand...
The grip he's keeping doesn't loosen. Not physically.] I can't.
[There's no part of this scenario that would go beautifully: the stormtroopers could be dealt with, but Starkiller itself would persist, obliterating their supposedly sequestered base where it lies. Even then, he can't count himself amongst their ranks, nor promise than once the warmth of this moment recedes, he'll keep from lashing out again.] And you've no hope of success. Surrender.
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If he had no faith in Solo's fatherly devotion, his mother, on the other hand...
The grip he's keeping doesn't loosen. Not physically.] I can't.
[There's no part of this scenario that would go beautifully: the stormtroopers could be dealt with, but Starkiller itself would persist, obliterating their supposedly sequestered base where it lies. Even then, he can't count himself amongst their ranks, nor promise than once the warmth of this moment recedes, he'll keep from lashing out again.] And you've no hope of success. Surrender.