Vacuum, recoil and shattered metal do more to sell realism in The Mandalorian than many works branded as hard science fiction. The show treats space as frictionless, ships as masses that must manage thrust and conservation of momentum rather than as jets that bank like aircraft in air.
Dogfights stage burns, drifts and ballistic trajectory changes that obey inertia, so a turn is a timed vector change, not a graceful arc. When engines cut, craft coast along existing velocity, reflecting Newtonian dynamics instead of atmospheric lift. Blaster impacts trigger visible momentum transfer: bodies and debris move in line with impulse rather than collapsing theatrically on the spot.
Armor behaves less like magic shielding and more like a material with finite yield strength and energy absorption. Beskar plates deflect focused energy yet still transmit force, so the wearer staggers, redistributing kinetic energy instead of negating it. Damage is local and directional, echoing stress concentration and real ballistic armor design, while classic pseudo-realistic epics often default to binary outcomes where hits either glance off weightlessly or vaporize targets without intermediate deformation.