Dustin's shoulders visibly bristle. Boba's returned hostility is definitely escalating Dustin's own aggression, yes, but at least his response isn't a violent one.

"Fine." The boy holds up an open hand and starts counting off his fingers. "Crew locking overrides? Checked. Operating one of the decommissioned ships? Checked. Taking off without being a Pilot or Engineer? Checked. Assessing alternate programming methods to overcome planet-side grounding? Total fucking nonstarter. Taking one of these bastards apart so I can find physical locking mechanisms and remove them? Fucking. Checked."

Dustin throws his arms up in a wild shrug and lets them slap back down at his sides.

"Do you want me to keep going?" he snaps. "I can keep fucking going."