I watched Retra piloting the ship, her hands moving with confident precision over the controls. A day ago, I would have called this ship Roan’s and mine, but now she was here, taking charge of a situation I was ill-prepared for. The events on Murakam replayed in my mind. I hadn’t been strong enough to protect Roan—or myself. I couldn’t even protect the only person I still cared for.

  Tears welled up in my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away. Retra noticed, glancing at me with a flicker of concern in her expression. “Hey, are you...”

  “I’m fine!” I snapped, turning away to hide my face.

  She hesitated, then shifted her focus back to the controls, her voice softer. “Sure... Maybe you should go check on Roan. As soon as D1k says he’s stabilized the internal bleeding, we’ll head out.”

  I nodded, catching the hint of restraint in her tone. It was as if she was deliberately avoiding a confrontation. Is that... concern? I found myself wondering. It didn’t fit the image I’d built of her. Inquisitors were supposed to be cruel, ruthless, and ready to destroy anyone in their path. They were infamous for razing entire villages, even after getting what they came for. And yet, here she was—having saved Roan, fighting alongside me instead of against me.

  I realized I’d been staring at her back. She reached a metal hand into her collar, massaging a stiff shoulder. The smooth, unblemished skin of her neck contrasted sharply with the scars where her metal hands began. She’s quite beautiful, actually, I thought reluctantly. It was strange to see such vulnerability in her, a stark contrast to the fierce fighter I’d clashed with only days before. I shook my head, frustrated with myself. What am I even thinking? Focus, Teya. Go check on Roan.

  Leaving the bridge, I made my way to the med bay. Roan lay on the secured operating table, strapped down to prevent further injury during the ship’s evasive maneuvers. He looked so pale, so fragile—nothing like the stubborn, resilient friend I remembered from our younger days.

  “How is he, D1k?” I asked, my voice barely steady.

  The droid’s mechanical voice responded, clipped and precise. “The patient is currently stable. Had I not known better, I would assume he had never been in danger.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

  “It is strange. All vital signs are within normal parameters, and the internal bleeding was less severe than expected, given the trajectory of the blaster wound,” D1k replied as if it couldn’t quite accept the data it was reporting.

  I placed a hand gently on Roan’s shoulder, leaning in closer. “I think... I think he’s trying his best to hold on.”

  “There is no data to confirm such an assumption,” D1k retorted, sounding almost offended by the idea.

  Ignoring the droid’s lack of empathy, I sank into a chair beside the stretcher, letting my gaze drift out the window. Just as I did, a ship emerged through the rift surrounding Murakam. Its design was like nothing I’d ever seen—shaped like a teardrop cut diamond, sleek and sinister, bristling with weapons no civilian should possess. A wave of raw emotion washed over me—anger, jealousy, and a dark, seething malice that turned my stomach. Beyond the fury, I sensed a powerful dark side user.

  Before I could react, Retra’s voice crackled through the ship’s communicator. “Teya, I’m taking us out of here!” Her tone was tight with urgency. She must have sensed the same ominous presence I did.

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  Grabbing a support rail, I braced myself for the sudden acceleration, but the ship barely moved—just a series of shudders as if something was holding us back.

  “Damn it! He’s got a hold on us!” Retra shouted, frustration clear in her voice.

  I hit the communicator button nearest to me, dread twisting in my gut. “A tractor beam?”

  “No! He’s just that powerful!” she replied, her voice edged with fear.

  Suddenly, a voice, cold and jagged like claws scraping against steel, invaded my mind through the Force. “Give it! I know you must have it, and it’s mine!” The demand didn’t make sense, but the malice behind it was unmistakable. The ship shook under the pressure of his anger, the metal creaking in protest.

  We’re being held by the Force itself, I realized, my mind racing. There has to be a way to counter it... but not with my power. If only Roan wasn’t in this condition...

  I turned to D1k, my voice sharp with urgency. “D1k, bring Roan out of his induced state!”

  “If he strains himself in this condition, he will die,” D1k protested, its mechanical voice taking on an uncharacteristic note of hesitation.

  “I just need him conscious for a moment. It’s not his power I need—it’s his mind. He has a unique perspective. If anyone can come up with a solution, it’s him.”

  The droid paused, weighing my words. “I would rather not risk a patient’s life. I am a doctor, not a mortician.”

  I bit back my frustration, forcing myself to stay calm. “If this ship is destroyed, you’ll be a heap of scrap instead of a doctor, and we’ll all be dead. Please, just do it!”

  D1k hesitated for a moment longer before conceding. “I will awaken the patient.”

  As D1k administered a stimulant, Retra’s voice continued to echo through the comms, her efforts to shake free of our assailant growing more desperate. I could hear the strain in the engines as she tried changing directions, accelerating and decelerating to break the hold.

  Roan’s eyes fluttered open, his face twisted with pain. “Roan,” I said, leaning close so he could hear me.

  “Hmm...” His voice was a weak groan, barely above a whisper.

  “Listen to me, Roan. Don’t try to move,” I urged, keeping my voice steady despite the fear twisting inside me.

  “Yeah?” he managed, his eyes struggling to focus on me.

  “If someone more powerful in the Force than you was holding you in one spot, how would you escape?” I asked, desperation making my words rush out.

  He blinked slowly, his mind fighting through the fog of pain and exhaustion. “The... other person’s Force power... has to grab onto you like tendrils... Don’t push back from the front... takes too much strength. Redirect the Force... push it sideways. Use a... circular motion, like a vortex...” he explained, his words slurring slightly, but the logic behind them clear.

  “Thank you, Roan. Rest now,” I said, my heart swelling with gratitude even as I signaled D1k to put him back under.

  Retra’s voice crackled through the communicator again. “Teya, what’s the plan?”

  “Set the ship to autopilot and meet me in the hangar!” I instructed, already sprinting from the med bay.

  I reached the hangar just as Retra arrived, her expression tight with determination. “Whoever is attacking us doesn’t seem willing to destroy us outright. If we can break his hold, we can escape.”

  “What’s the plan?” she asked, her tone sharp and focused.

  “We stand back to back and push outward with the Force. But instead of pushing against his power head-on, we use a spiral—like how a vortex spins inward, but reversed. It should disrupt his hold on us,” I explained, hoping I had understood Roan’s advice correctly.

  Retra nodded, her gaze steely. “Worth a try.”

  We positioned ourselves back to back, bracing against the invisible pressure that held the ship in place. I closed my eyes, focusing on Roan’s instructions, imagining the tendrils of dark power wrapped around us. I began to push out with the Force, spinning my energy in a circular motion.

  Beside me, I felt Retra’s presence, strong and unyielding as she synchronized with my movements. It was like a dance, our energies working together, intertwining and pressing against the invisible grip that held us. I could feel the strain on the other end, the tension of our opponent’s hold weakening as we disrupted his focus.

  “Once more, together!” I shouted, feeling the moment of resistance crack.

  With a final push, our combined effort shattered the grip holding the ship. The pressure vanished, and we broke free, the ship shooting forward as it crossed through the vortex and into the safety of normal space.

  As the stars blurred around us in hyperspace, Retra turned to me, catching her breath. “That was a great technique. How did you come up with it?”

  I shook my head, a small, exhausted smile crossing my face. “I didn’t. It was Roan. His unique insight into the Force... it’s a treasure all its own.

  Is that concern I felt earlier? I took another look at Retra, she wasn't what I thought she was like. Inquisitors are supposed to be cruel, wicked, or inherently evil. They have been known to burn a village down even after they turn over the Jedi or force-sensitive the Sith have been hunting. She was hunting me but more like a bounty hunter does and she is here now saving Roan. Who is she?

  I realize I've been staring at her back when she reached a metal hand into her top's collar to massage a stiff shoulder. Smooth blemishless skin that made a stark contrast to her scars where her metal hands begin. Sadly, she's quite beautiful, it's a shame she'll always be scarred.

  I hadn't noticed when I thought we'd have to fight to the death that she is quite attractive and gives off a chill vibe with a mature look. What am I even thinking... I should go check on Roan.

  I leave the bridge and head over to the med bay. I see Roan lying on the secured operating table strapped down to prevent further injuries.

  "How is he D1k?" I ask.

  "Patient is currently stable and had I not known better I would think they always were," D1k answers.

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "It's strange... all of his vitals are fine and even the internal bleeding was minor when it shouldn't have been." D1k shrugs.

  I place my hand on Roan's shoulder," I think he's trying his best to hold on".

  "There's no data to confirm such an assumption," D1k corrects.

  I ignore the droid's bad bedside manner and sit in a chair by the stretcher. I look outside the window just in time to see another ship enter through the rift around Murakam. It's of a make I've never seen before shaped like a teardrop cut diamond and outfitted with weaponry not considered legal for civilians to own. Then a presence of pure anger, jealousy, and malice overwhelms me. My stomach sinks, beyond the raw emotions I sense a strong user of the dark side".

  I grab hold of a nearby support expecting our ship to rapidly accelerate but other than some shaking nothing happens.

  only Roan wasn't in this condition...

  "D1k bring Roan out of his induced state," I tell the droid.