Star Wars: Jedi's Will of Justice

Chapter 15: Conflicting Vectors Made by the Force - Part 4

I do not own any of the Star Wars and DC characters and ideas represented in this work.​
The shuttle rocked a little, which took Shayera out of her thoughts. Looking out the window, she saw most of the Gordanian ground crews stumble as they felt the short quake as well. To Shayera, it wasn't a good sign.

Suddenly, not too long after the short quake, another rocked the ship; however, this one was larger. It shook the entire shuttle; the tremor made the containers, equipment, and Gordanians tremble in the hangar. The unpleasant quake made the crew fall to the ground, as they wouldn't be able to stand against the tremor. Cargo containers moved, coming out of their place. One container that was stacked onto another fell off the container it was above and smashed two poor Gordanians when it fell to the ground, creating a wet smack.

The tremor continued relentlessly, like a bad earthquake. Shayera buckled herself to the crash, webbing in the pilot's seat. She was getting a bad feeling about this. Then, at the apex of the quake, all lights in the hangar ceased. The Shuttles inner cockpit lights and the lights of the screaming alarms were the only luminations that were created in the pitch black hangar. Shayera can hear the screaming and yelling of the ground crews through the chaotic hangar.

The lights then turned back on, and the tremors stopped. Shayera wondered, What the hell was that? She hoped to God that Luke was okay with that. She almost hoped that it wasn't some sort of problem with the gravity generators, but it looked like they got it back online.

It seemed like everything was fine until she heard a low growl. It can only be described as a metallic roar, like if she were stuck inside the belly of a hungry predator, its stomach growling out of unsatisfaction. Then she noticed something on top of the shuttle's console: a tool for maintenance was slowly moving to the right side of the cabin. It then reached the far end of the corner. She looked out of the window and realized that wasn't the only thing that seemed to want to hug the right side of the ship.

Objects that were knocked out of their places started to slide over to the right side. Followed by bigger objects, then ground grew that were just starting to get up and unwillingly made their way to the right wall. They tried to run up to the left but started to fall back in the sliding movement.

She knew what was happening, and she didn't like it one bit.

She went to the ship's controls and started to enter buttons and switches to activate the shuttle's magnetic locks to the hangar's ground. The shuttle made a snapping noise, and the console showed it was good, but she wasn't sure it would be enough to save the shuttle.

More objects started to slide over to the right, until finally the cargo containers slowly crawled to determine whether the crowd was heading. When tipping was at a 45-degree angle, the containers made their way over in a hurry. They crashed up against the right wall. Smashing equipment and crewmen under their weight. The Gordanians that managed to desperately latch onto something that was bolted onto the bay floor were now slipping their grips and falling to the right wall in loud thuds. Shayera's hair also started to sway over to the right.

The ship tipped and tipped and tipped until it was completely onto the right, where the right wall was now the floor and the hangar ground can be considered the left wall now. All of this happened while the horrible, loud metallic roar was yelling inside the ship. Shayera thought she even heard the ship's engines overworking themselves. Thankfully, the shuttle was still magnetically locked onto the bay's floor, gluing itself sideways.

She was really starting to worry for Luke now.

As it could get any worse, she started to feel somewhat weightless, like her body couldn't help but float. That somewhat vague feeling then came to an end as she noticed some objects that were in the cockpit started to float. Her hair, which was completely sideways to the right now, was in disarray, floating, almost coming alive.

Her eyes widened as she knew what was happening. Looking at the destroyed hanger bay, objects, equipment, and ground crew, dead or alive, were now being pulled up; they too were becoming weightless. Some tried to grab onto something bolted to the bay's interior; others couldn't and floated aimlessly.

Another alarm sounded off in the sympathy of Klaxons; this one was louder and lower. Through the ship's intercom system, a Gordanian was yelling through it, commanding that crew to abandon ship.

Her worry for Luke came into a fear that dropped her stomach.

***​
"VOS!" Karag yelled through the riotous bridge, "Status!"

The ship rocked and tore, disrupting the bridge from their duties. The sailors that were seated were holding onto their chairs or their workstations. The few that were standing fell as the quakes overpowered their stability.

Vos held onto the helmsman's station as the quakes continued into a fury. "Sir! The rear port-side dorsal fin got disconnected! It's-" His words stopped when an even more powerful quake shook the bridge.

Then, all the lights and sounds that made up the bridge went silent. A second later, power came back, and electrical systems and computers restarted with their chirps and whistles.

Vos looked over to the helmsman station screen, and his face turned into a horrible panic. "Sir! The fin penetrated the port side! It ruptured the stabilizer and damaged the gravity generators!"

Karag twisted his head to Vos with sharp speed and asked, "What?!"

The ship made a loud grinding noise, and afterward, the ship started to slowly tip to the starboard side. The bridge crew that were seated locked themselves into their crashwebbing tightly. The crew that couldn't find seats held onto consoles and workstations like children holding their mothers as the ship continued swaying to the right. The ship finally fully turned to the right, sideways. Some crew members who weren't strong enough to hold onto the bridge's interior fell to the new bottom, crashing into consoles.

Karag, who was buckled in his captain's seat, yelled loud enough through the alarms, screaming to get the attention of the Helmsman, "HELMSMAN! GET THE SHARPCLAW UNDER CONTROL!"

Helmsman looked behind his seat with absolute terror. "C-Captain," he croaked. "The ship's elevator was hit and the emergency controls were not responding!"

Karag turned his head over to the dispatch officer, who was trying to make sense of all of the communication chatter that sounded like a riot. "Dispatch! Get engineering and maintenance on the communications now!"

Before the dispatcher could relay orders, he brought his hands to his face as the console he was stationed at started to spark alive, almost angrily. Sparks turned into dancing electricity. Electricity then morphed into a violent storm of electrical fire and sparks that engulfed the dispatcher's body. Circuits and computer parts exploded, with the fire swallowing the sailor whole.

He screamed in agony as his scales were quickly turning from a color of green to a palette of charred blacks and red from melting flesh. He stumbled onto his crash webbing's quick release in a desperate attempt to free himself and roll onto the ground to escape the cage of flames he's in. However, he tightened the crash webbing too much earlier, making it harder to unlock the buckle. It didn't take long for the screams to die out and the body to turn into an ashy, blistered mess.

Before Karag could dish out more orders, one of the bridge crew members yelled, "Sir! The ship's gravity generators are going down!"

In the queue, objects that weren't bolted down started to move up. The dead body that started to emit the smell of charred flesh started to float up as its crash webbing was burned, releasing the burned heap.

"Sir!" Vos yelled out to Karag as he gripped the helm station, "The ship's deorbiting! She's losing engine power!"

Karag looked up at the bridge's window to see the big blue orb getting bigger and bigger.

***​
A group of Gordanians passed a hallway intersection. When the soldiers disappeared in the ship's bowels, Luke motioned for the captives and Saint Walker to come out of the corner to double time discreetly through the narrow hallway. Saint was the first to go in order to guard the front, while Luke was at the end to protect the rear. The female captives hurried across, trying not to make as much noise as possible.

When the last captive left the corner, Luke ran behind the last one as the saint with the front end of the group reached the corner. Luke went to the corner first so he could detect any movement of Gordanians in the nearby corridors. Saint replaced Luke's spot at the end to watch the rear. They rotated back and forth like this after leaving the detention center, doing this through several corridors.

Luke remembers the way back to the bay they came in; at the moment, they have two turns of the hallway till they reach the hanger. At the edge of the corner, he used his eyes and the Force to feel for more incoming Gordanians. Getting the message across, he gestured again, and Saint Walker went first, then the captives quickly followed.

Midway through the run, Luke felt a ripple from the Force that something bad was going to happen. Before Luke could stop anyone from doing anything, a rumble started through the ship. Luke anchored his body with the force so he wouldn't fall; however, the rest of the group stumbled and fell from the tremors. One of the last captives that was running behind went to the ground in a thud and yelped loudly.

Luke must've not paid attention to his surroundings, as a Gordanian behind the corner they came out of heard the yelp, and poked his head around the edge to investigate. Reptilian eyes went wide, and he sounded the alarms for his comrades that were around the corner. More Gordanins poured out, brandishing weapons at the group. The captives screamed and gasped at the sight, and the mother instinctively held her daughter tighter.

Luke brought up his lightsaber, and the bar of energy fountained out of the hilt. Before the Gordanians could properly fire, the tremor continued in a frightening fury, rocking the ship as if a big pair of hands were shaking it. More captives stumbled to the floor. Luke wobbled a little but still stood firm. The Gordanians fell out of formation and focus; one sailor shot out to the group on accident, or at least not yet, and the bolt went straighter towards the group. The captives screamed at the blaster shot, and the moment it went out, they brought their hands to their faces, expecting one or the other to get shot.

What they didn't expect, however, was Luke immediately deflecting the shot back in the direction it came. The bolt of energy went to a control panel that opens and closes the blast door between the escaping group and the Gordanians. The bolt penetrated the console, making the display of buttons on the wall puke up sparks and smoke, making the blast door shut prematurely. The captives gave Luke looks of wonderment from what he did; to Saint Walker, it was nothing new.

When the blast door shut itself, the quakes continued until the lights went out, just for a second. When the lights went back online, getting the hallway away from the darkness, Luke felt another wave of danger from the Force.

The ship started tipping to the right; the right wall was going to be the new ground. "Get on the right!" Luke warned everyone; the panicked group put their attention on Luke. "Get on the right wall and roll over when the ship finally tips!"

The fearful captives nodded as they couldn't say anything due to the frightening situation, and they pushed their bodies against the right wall of the corridor. The ship continued to move over until the right wall was now the corridor's floor, ceiling, and steel floor, the new walls, and the original left side at the top of the hallway.

The captives did their best to roll over to the right wall once it stopped tipping; some stumbled better than others. The mother put her back against the right wall and rolled over so her daughter wouldn't get hurt. Saint Walker dropped a roll over the new floor with more elegance.

When the ship finally stopped tipping, the group managed to regain their stability. They somewhat got their composure back, albeit a shaky, scared one, until what can be described as a horrible metal roar echoed all throughout the ship. The captives looked horrified all around to see what could be making that noise.

Luke gazed over to Saint Walker, and Saint Walker looked at him. Luke was getting another feeling that the situation would only worsen, and he thinks Saint Walker is getting that same feeling as well.

At that moment, the ship's gravity was lost. The weightlessness of the void entered the vessel, picking up the group off their feet. They started to slowly drift up in the air, and some of them screamed at the realization. They kicked their feet to the ground, but Weightless kept picking them up. Some tried to latch on to the wall or use their hands to grip the ceiling for support. Luke and Saint Walker only floated, as they both knew it was pointless to resist.

Luke should have known that Artoo was doing a too good of a job of distracting. If damaging the ship's sense of direction by flipping it sideways and distrusting the ship's gravity generators was "distracting," he wondered what Artoo's definition of going all out would be.

But that was neither here nor there; right now, he can tell the situation is only going to get worse rather than better. If the ship lost gravity and maybe control at the bridge, they wouldn't have time to reach the shuttle if all hell broke loose. He can already tell from the force that the ship is losing its orbit above the planet. Slowly, the cruiser was getting caught up by the gas giant's gravity well. They don't have time.

A hiss of sparks started to erupt at the bottom of the closed blast doors where they met. The light spewed out hot sparks and started to slowly make its way up. He didn't need to guess who was on the other side.

"We need to go!" He looked over to the panicking floating group and said, "We gotta make our way to the hangar! NOW!"

"How are we supposed to get there?!" One of the agitated captives shouted.

Luke, still floating, extended his hand and said, "Like this."

He carefully but quickly gripped Saint Walker and his captives to push them further down the corridor. The captives let out sounds of shock, not knowing what had grabbed hold of their bodies, and moved them to the end of the hall. Saint was somewhat surprised but tried to focus on what was on hand.

By the time they reached the end, the blast door behind Luke opened, the sparks that went from the bottom of the crease to the top ceased, and the heavy doors slid wide, revealing a platoon of Gordanians. Instead of floating like the rest of their targets, they wore magnetic boots that glued their feet to the hull.

Hungry for action and murder in their yellow eyes, they trained their weapons in Luke's direction. Ready for this, he called upon the blast doors to slide back again, though unlike this time where he made them close on the Gordanians, he'll make them deal with soldiers for good.

With a devastating force wave, the doors went off their rails. The wave of invisible energy sent the reinforced blast doors tumbling and crashing through the corridor ranks. The Gordanians were either crushed or smacked further into the part of the hallway they came from.

Not a moment passed when Luke turned around and forcefully pushed himself towards the captives at the end of the corridor. He swerved and guided himself around the floating mess of rescued hostages so he wouldn't collide with them.

"Don't worry!" He said with a loud reassurance, "Just around this turn here, and we'll reach the shuttle!"

Luke was about to do the same thing—use the force and pick them up—before he heard the sound of boots clanking at the other end of the narrow hall. Like bugs plaguing a ventilation system, the Gordanians spread themselves on different sides of the hall, boots on all sides. They started to fire at the group.

Before a single beam of energy touched either of the rescued captives, Luke bolted through the group at a lightning pace. He reached a wall, crouched, and catapulted himself before the first shot reached one of the shocked captives. The shot was almost just a couple of inches away and hit the face of the mother, who held her daughter in her grip, before Luke's lightsaber parried the bolt.

Every shot the Gordanians made, Luke swiftly returned in kind, either with his lightsaber, using his hands to redirect back, or using telekinesis to make the bolts do a 180 back to their source. The soldiers that got shot back didn't float as expected due to their magnetic boots holding their bodies in place. Floating weapons were moving around aimlessly, and blaster smoke started to pile in that corridor.

"SAINT!" Luke yelled out, "Get them to the shuttle; I'll meet you there!" He ordered while not looking back at the group behind him. With both hands occupied, the DL-44 still holstered at his hip, unclipped itself, and darted around the mess of captives without hitting anyone to make its way to the hands of the Astonian.

Though somewhat hesitant at first to use a firearm, he quickly adjusted to the situation. "We'll meet you at the end of the hallway!" He looked over to the floating captives and said, "Let's hurry! Sisters!" He grabbed a piece of piping that ran parallel to what used to be the ceiling. "Use the pipes to climb to the other end!" He waved over the blaster to where his other hand gripped the pipe to give off an example.

Slowly and frightfully, the female captives, nearest the ceiling, used both hands to guide themselves towards the corner that would lead them to the hangar. Others that weren't near the ceiling at first grappled with the wall or floor to make their way to the piped ceiling while still being weightless. The mother used both of her hands while the child held tightly to her mother's torso. Wrapping her legs and arms around her mother with her head poking out to watch behind her fleeing mother, eyes filled with complete astonishment and amazement watch as Luke effortlessly redirects energy bolts.

Luke twirled his blade in walls of pure green energy, sending bolts back. Second by second, there were fewer bolts being fired as shooters were shot down by their own fire. It seemed like the Jedi was rendering the platoon-size element of sailors to a couple and was about to finish until more bolts came from where the blast doors used to be. Looking at the new bombardment and where it was coming from, Luke saw more Gordanians at the place where he blasted the heavy doors.

He continued to send back beams of energy, without fail. Buying time for Saint Walker to lead the group into the hangar.

***​
Saint Walker saw the face of where two reinforced doors meet—the same doors that Skywalker closed that would let them into the hangar bay—or, assuming the state of the ship, what's left of the hangar bay.

He anchored himself with one hand onto the control panel at the doors while the rest of his body was suspended. The other hand held the blaster pistol Luke gave him. Walker was never a dedicated hunter or the type of person who used ranged weapons at all. Though that doesn't mean he hadn't used them before, he had used firearms during hunting trips with his father as a child. However, he had training in martial arts, not firearms. But Bro'Dee realized that trying to kick, lunge, and punch at Gordanians in a zero-gravity setting was going to be a problem.

He looked back at the rescued women who held on for dear life to the pipes that made up what used to be the ceiling. Though Luke did get them out of their hopeless state back at the detention cell, they were nonetheless petrified by the situation. Walker didn't blame them; he can only assume that these women have never been in a situation where they got shot at. In honesty, on Walker's part, he has never been in one either.

He couldn't see Luke's fight with the Gordanians, but since Luke himself was around the corner, Saint Walker could still hear the fight. Blaster bolts echoed and cracked through the weightless air, creating an aroma of smoke and burned metal that Saint Walker could smell. Luke's lightsaber sparked quick bursts and flashes of light, not too different from the brief moments of light created from a lightning bolt. Sounds of shouting Gordanians continued along the symphony of choice that was the fight. They barked orders, screamed, and yelled from pain as they tried to fire on the exceptionally skilled and powerful young man.

Saint Walker could not only smell, hear, and see the fight around the corner; he could also feel and sense it. He doesn't know the extent of the ways he can use the force, but he can definitely sense Luke using it. He can feel the strange power enter the man like a huge river through a valley. He can feel Luke Skywalker directing and pooling the force around him like a conduit of energy, unleashing his powers on the soldiers. He can only imagine Luke was giving the Gordanians a frightening enemy to shoot at with all of the senses he could detect.

Coming back from his observation of the fight at the bend, Saint Walker wondered if he could call upon the Force in this situation. The only teaching Luke gave Walker was expanding his mind to the Force and submerging himself in it. In Luke's words, the force can guide those who are attuned to it if they quiet their minds. But in this situation where there was no gravity, a group of damaged women who are beyond terrified and an army of Gordanians wanting to kill them wouldn't really ease one's mind, to be clear.

Looking at the rescued women, looking at the mother and her fearful daughter, and imagining if they were his wife, Quanta, and his daughter, Peesh. He pictured in his head that they both survived that horrible river but instead were captured by the Gordanians and repurposed as slaves. It was a nightmarish sight that made him want to only throw up and give him coldness run up in his spine.

The hole in him that was made when his family died was filled with a small flame of hot, boiling anger. It was hotter than this blasted ship that the Gordanians seem to enjoy. That spark of heat that coursed through his veins was like a dangerous source of adrenaline. It was the Force, Saint Walker safely guessed, but it was just...different.

This new power just felt so powerful compared to what Saint Walker felt, even if he had few encounters with the Force. This new power, this new-found strength, refueled itself every second when Walker thought of those monstrous Gordanians. Like dumping coals into a spark of heat, his anger for the Gordanians fueled that very fire, slowly building up into a whirlpool of flames.

It was all of the Gordanians' fault!

How?! How could they do such heinous acts?! How could they live with themselves knowing what they have done?! Do they have any idea how much people suffered from their actions?! Do they know how much his people suffered?! Do they care about what they did to his family?!

DO THEY KNOW HOW MUCH PAIN THEY MADE HIM SUFFER THROUGH?!

NO! Not yet, at least; they'll understand soon enough. He'll make them pay for what they have done to everyone—no! He'll bring hell to pay them for making him suffer!

He will make them pay; he will make them suffer like he suffered. They will see how much pain he felt when he lost his family! They'll cry like how much he cried! They'll want to die when he's done with them. They will feel pain and agony when he takes their families away! He'll-

"Mister, Are... Are you alright?"

Saint Walker heard a concerned feminine voice that came out of nowhere. He thought he heard the sound of Quanta for a moment. He realized that he was staring at the corridor's walls with no purpose. He looked back to see all of the women looking at him, scared and worried about him. The origin of the voice was from the mother, who had a face of concern for her. Even the daughter looked at him, her brow furrowed and her mouth frowning, which reminded him of Peesh.

Suddenly, that fire nearly engulfed the insides of his body and was taken out, almost instantly. The hot flames got blown away by a sudden breeze, and the anger that fueled that fire got swept away as well. Blazing embers sizzled away and died.

What was once a hot, flaming furnace of a heart that existed for a short period was replaced by that deep hole he came to recognize.

Now, he just felt cold. An unbearable chill that he noticed overcame him even though the ship was practically emitting the same amount of heat as a jungle. This cold wasn't caused by the absence of that furnace he had, though it was part of it. It was the realization of what he thought.

He thought about those things. He imagined doing those horrible acts. He...imagined it, no, dreamed it; he dreamed of torturing, violence, and misery on the Gordanians for what? Revenge?

He never thought he could do such a thing. He never thought he could partake in such terrifying actions. It just felt like that wasn't him, like that part of him that wanted nothing but pain and suffering for those who ruined him moments ago was just a completely different person.

A monster erupted from its sleep in his heart.

Shaken still, Walker managed to get his guts out of the deep well created by his thoughts and responded to the rescued mother, "Yes," he swallowed, "I am fine." He nodded to them and said, "Thank you for your concern."

"SAINT!" A loud voice got the group's attention. Turning their heads, they saw Luke floating at the corner now, focused on the corridor they came from, swinging his green blade to send shots back to unseen soldiers. "OPEN THE BLAST DOOR AND GO!"

Saint Walker quickly pressed the open button on the doors, and the hangar revealed itself. Walker's assumption of the hangar being a mess was pretty accurate. Tools and equipment were suspended in the air, and parts of the hangar were in total disarray. Some Gordanians were even floating around as well.

The shuttle they came in, however, thankfully, was not floating but instead planted itself on the hangar floor. Though they could try and break it to the shuttle, getting past the Gordanians and the floating debris will be a challenge, to say the least.

Then, force energy surrounded the group like a hidden mist; it was the same feeling when Luke used force to move the group earlier. The group was pushed out of the corridor and into the chaotic hangar. If he can describe how the mess of debris parted ways for them, it would be like large invisible hands cutting through between them and the shuttle and pushing out the mess to make a free path.

Some captives gasped, like before. Saint was the first point while he looked back to see Luke closely behind the group. Some Gordanians that saw the groups alarmed at each other and got out their weapons for killing intents. Few managed to pull accurate shots at the group, though Luke's force powers nullified or turned them away quickly. While at the halfway point of the shuttle, Saint saw two Gordanians holding onto a floating cargo container and pointing their weapons at them.

Quickly, he brought up the pistol Luke gave him and let out a fury of red blaster bolts at them.

Three shots

Five shots

Nine shots

They twitched and moved away from the ongoing barrage, trying to reach cover. The final shots caught their lives, and they floated aimlessly, blending in with all of the cold debris.

The shuttle's boarding ramp opened like the wide mouth of a beast, though that was a welcoming sight. Shayera Hol, the Thanagarian woman, extended her wings and flew at the shooting Gordanians, she attacked and blunted the soldiers with one of the melee wepaons on the shuttle.

With the momentum of Luke's wave of energy, the captives went into the opening of the shuttle, letting out thankful cries of relief. Saint Walker stayed out by grabbing the boarding ramp's hydraulic poles and helping Shayera Hol cover the group.

Out of the blue, Saint Walker got a feeling of foreboding and dread that shocked him at first. His head turned automatically to the mother and daughter that were floating towards the shuttle. He didn't know why he got the call, but he didn't like it. Far away, a Gordanian sent out a shot before he was taken by one of Luke's redirected bolts. The shot went in their direction, directing its gaze and speed at the mother and daughter.

Time stood at a standstill. Quick flashes of Quanta and Peesh replaced the faces of the mother and daughter. Then back to the mother and daughter, and back to his wife and daughter. Instinctively, he catapulted to them with lightning speed. He didn't think at all but acted.

The bolt was a meter away from striking the two before Saint Walker grabbed the two with his arms, not letting them ever go, and rotated them so his back would face the bolt. To them, they didn't realize what happened until they saw the face of the Astonian, hugging them for dear life and seeing his face contort to an expression of pain as they heard something collide with his back.

Hot pain penetrated through the right upper side of his back. An explosion of burning nerves and muscles spread out through the inside of his body. The air in his lungs suddenly disappeared, and he couldn't breathe anymore. His eyes went wide and started to go down.

He saw the faces of his wife and his beautiful daughter in his arms. His arms wrapped around them to embrace his love for them. Even when he feels his energy leaving him and his muscles starting to loosen, he still holds on to them. He'll hold onto them forever if need be. He didn't mind the horror in their eyes; he still loved them.

He began to relax, though not willingly. He felt his life draining from his body. The world started to lose color. The sound of chaos started to fade away. He continued to look at his wife and daughter, giving them a faint smile. Unfortunately, this might be the last time he'll ever see them again.

The world started to go darker and darker; he held onto them even tighter, trying not to lose them in the dark. not again.

His world got dimmer and dimmer; he didn't notice that he started to float towards the shuttle and get in. He didn't notice his wife and daughter leaving his grip, placing him on the cold steel floor. He didn't notice the rubble and shaking around him. He didn't notice the worried looks of Luke Skywalker and Shayera Hol. He didn't notice the hand placed on his chest.

The world around him got darker and darker until all that he heard, sensed, smelled, and heard was nothing.

Nothing but shadows, He will see his family again.

***​
The last Gordanian starfighter spun out of control, disappearing in a cloud of smoke and flames as R2 swung the damaged J-Wing around to see the Gordanian cruiser being dragged down further to the gas giant. The descent down to the planet was increasing. Its atmospheric entry was starting to cast an orangey glow around the ship as it rumbled down. Smoke still trailed off the part of the ship where the fin pierced the hull, and though the wound was spewing even more debris out, some of them were the Gordanian crew.

In what he processed as escape pods, small dots started to dart their way out of the ship as fast as possible from both sides. Most got out and floated around after they got to a considerable distance; some thought they collided into one another, got dragged down into the planet's gravity well, or smashed into debris.

Worry started to circuit in him; the ship's sensors were not picking up any large ships escaping the falling cruiser. He started to feel guilty, thinking that he accidentally caused his master's death by his stupid programming. He felt guilty but then relieved when a shuttle from the same hangar they went into blasted out of the bay and away from the cruiser. The J-Wings sensors picked up that it was indeed the very same shuttle master Luke was on, and they had a couple of new passengers as well.

When he guided the J-Wing to reach over to the shuttle, the planet had its death grip on the cruiser. It was practically a ball of fire. Its dorsal fins gave in and collapsed, falling behind it. Parts of the ship flew off, breaking down the cruiser. Finally, it wasn't really the planet that destroyed the ship, but rather the ship itself. R2 assumed that the cruiser's reactor must've overloaded when it started to make its way down the planet. Thankfully, the shuttle and the J-Wing were at a good distance by the time the cruiser exploded. The cruiser was swallowed by an overwhelming white light that was just as bright as a star. Debris got shot all over the place. When the light died, nothing was left of the ship. The concussion wave rocked both ships but did no significant harm.

R2 whistled out a relief, thankful that his master didn't die, then worriedly entered his droid brain. He has a whole lot of explaining to do when Luke sees him.

***​
There was nothing but shadow, until a speck of light entered that curtain of black. The little spark then turned into a shining beacon that engulfed the world, casting out darkness.

Eyelids peeled open, and Saint Walker's world went bright again. The light covered his sight, eclipsing everything. Slowly, the light got dimmer, and details of the world came to him. At first, he only saw figures surrounding him; over time, he saw that it was the women he and Luke rescued. He weakly blinks as the shuttle's interior lights are almost too unbearable to see.

A hand was on his chest, but he slowly let it off. He noticed two bodies the closest to him, and lifting his head, he recognized them as Luke Skywalker and Shayera Hol. They were both crouching next to him, one on either side of him. He also took note of the mother and daughter with looks of thankfulness. Luke sighs in relief with Shayera as well. The women that encircled them gave glances of surprise and solace, while some looked at Luke in awe.

Saint Walker realized something: he should be dead. Not that he wanted to, but that blaster bolt should have killed him. His eyes went wide when he felt that the sharp, horrible pain in his back was no more. Granted, it was a little sore, but it was nonetheless welcomed. He blinked some more, trying to decipher if this was some grand dream or, in fact, heaven.

"Am I dead?" he dared to ask Skywalker in a weak voice.

The corners of Luke's mouth moved up to show his smile. "No," he almost chuckled. "You were close, but far from it." He went to his feet and held down a hand for Walker. Saint Walker gladly accepted and stood up with some effort required. "Easy," Luke warned while placing another hand on Saint Walker to help.

Fully up, he glanced around the shuttle's interior, the group of women who are now free, then to Luke in a flabbergasted expression on what happened, "I don't understand, how?"

Luke casually shrugged. "The Force is a great ally for those who need help."

Saint Walker stared blankly at Luke for a long moment, then laughed. "I suppose I underestimated the Force then, even when you showed me there is more to it than meets the eye."

Luke snickered a bit. "Yeah, I underestimate it sometimes too." He looks over to the mother and back to Saint. "I think there's someone that wants to talk to you."

Turning his back, Walker saw the Korugan mother and daughter stepping into the circle and reaching him. The daughter was in front of her mother, looking at Walker with young glee. The mother looked down to see her daughter, who looked back to Walker to say something with complete gratitude. "Thank you, mister, for saving me and Mama." The youth said, then blurred straight towards Walker to hug him. She wrapped around his waist and placed her head deep into his stomach.

Walker stood like a statue, not understanding what was happening. The mother gave her daughter a look of warmth and did the same thing as the daughter. Mother and daughter hugged him tightly. Walker's arms were over to his side, but they started to make their way around the mother and daughter. He wished that warm embrace would last forever.

***​
Luke saw the shuttle lift off and soar to the sky, blowing around a storm of dust and dirt. He kept his eyes on the small craft till it left his vision. The women that they rescued are free now, and hopefully that stays that way forever. Whatever scars and pains they received when being captured will eventually heal over time. They said their 'thank yous' and gave hugs to the three. A sight he was thankful to see.

With Gordanian weapons onboard, they will definitely be able to defend themselves from some form of piracy. Seeing how all of their belongings were taken and destroyed, Luke and Shayera explained to them that they could go to a spaceport far from here and sell the ship for its parts; that way, they could split the earnings and catch a transport to their homes. If there is a next time, he hopes that their lives continue peacefully.

After escaping the cruiser, the J-Wing and the shuttle rendezvoused at a section of the moon that was remote and inhabited. Barren and rocky, red sands covered the moon. One might think that the light on the horizon is the system's primary rising, but in fact it is the city casting an artificial gloom.

Turning around, Shayera was next to him, trying to find the shuttle that had left the moon's orbit. Between them and the J-Wing, Saint Walker did the same as well, though he was thinking more than actually using his eyes. Then there was the J-Wing. Luke sighed at the look of it. Smokey and riddled with holes of different shapes and sizes, the J-Wing went through the ringer. For better or worse, the J-Wing completed its test run. Artoo and him are going to have a long week repairing the ship, and he's not really looking forward to explaining to Bruce what happened.

"Glad, that's over with," Shayera said, looking over to Luke. He met her gaze.

"Yeah, I guess so."

There was a moment of silence between the two before Shayera cocked her arm and gave a stinging punch to his arm. It practically felt like getting punched by a Wookie. Luke let out an "Ouch!" and rubbed his now tender arm. "What was that for?" A dazed Luke said.

She crossed her arms like a disappointed mother. "You know what?" She showed no sympathy and narrowed her eyes. "You had me worried like hell, and you think that nothing bad happened back there?!"

Luke showed her the palms of his hands in an act of defense. "Hey, I didn't expect the entire ship to turn to the side and lose control."

She pressed her lips into a thin line. "I thought you said Artoo knew what he was doing?"

"Well...you know... Artoo did what he could," he rubbed the back of his head as she didn't let up a hawk-like star. "I mean, I was mad too at what happened, but in Artoo's defense, he can't really control the situation." He made a shrug.

Shayera continued to stare into Luke's soul, almost looking like the crazed Thanagarian he saw back at the cantina brawl. After moments of staring down at Luke, she huffed and shook her head. "Whatever," she rolled her eyes and pointed at Luke. "But don't think I'll forgive you for putting yourself in danger like that."

"Uh, I'll keep that in mind."

Luke turned his head to Saint Walker, who was still watching the sky. Something was on his mind, and to be honest, something was on Luke's mind as well.

"Go ahead and head to the ship," he said to Shayera. "I gotta talk with Saint."

Shayera nodded and walked over to J-Wing. This only left Luke and Saint by themselves, alone in the moon's barren red wilderness. He went to Saint and started what both had in their minds.

"Are you okay, Saint Walker?"

Saint stopped looking at the depths of space and faced Luke. "I am," he paused, and looked into the far distance. Both didn't say anything for moments before Saint Walker managed to say something. From his expression, he felt something that disturbed him, something that rocked his core: "I have something to say."

Luke replied with an attempt at understanding, "Go ahead."

Saint Walker inhaled and put out what he had to say: "When we were back in the cruiser, when I was with the captives while you were holding back the Gordanians," he stopped for a moment. "I thought about my family at that moment, then thought about the Gordanians, and... that led me to a feeling of horrifying anger."

Luke started to worry. "What do you mean by that?"

Saint didn't say anything, not wanting to and being afraid to say it; it felt more like shame than anything else. "When I had that burst of anger, something from the Force came to me. It wasn't like it guided like what you said it could; it felt something new, something powerful; it felt just different. That anger, that hatred, was something I never felt before." He stopped and looked blankly down at the red ground. Guilt coming to him,

"I thought of things, disturbing things, like if someone were in my own mind. When I thought about doing those, I was brought back." Saint Walker then looked like he remembered something that haunted him; he placed his arm on the other to show his uncomfortable attitude. "I felt cold afterwards." He looked back up to Luke to answer, almost afraid to ask, "What was it?"

Luke was afraid that this would happen: "What you felt, Saint, was the Dark Side."

The very word seemed to hurt Saint. Luke continued, "Remember when I said that every living thing is connected to the Force? And how, when we clear our minds, we can hear the force?" Saint nods. "Well, that goes along with our emotions. How we control and channel the force is dependent on our emotions and state of mind. There is a light side and a dark side to the force. That goes for every creature and sentient being too; there is a light side that expresses the very best of us." He stopped in remembering his father, remembering himself in their last duel, "And there is a dark side that brings out the worst of us."

Saint Walker had a horrifying look. "So, this Dark Side, that was me? Was I thinking of bringing harm to others?

"The Dark Side feeds off fear, anger, hatred, and suffering—the worst of our emotions and personalities. But those thoughts come out of nowhere." Luke said, "Darkness is in every living thing; you have it, the Gordanians have it, those women have it, Shayera has it, and I have it. Think of it as an inner demon, Saint," Luke explained. "Everyone has a demon in them, a little devil on your shoulder that talks to you. That darkness in you, that demon, will try to coax and persuade you to do things that might sound tempting, to indulge in actions and desires you only thought about but wanted to do. If you give in to those dark thoughts and fall into the abyss, that demon will devour you, and you'll become it. To be born with the gift of being attuned to the Force, Saint, is not only to hear the will of the Force better than most beings, but to hear the temptations of your demon just as clearly. It's a two-way street."

A storm of fear rose into Saint's character: "Will I... can I control it?"

Luke put his head to the side and said, "You mean control the dark side? No, as much as we control our emotions and our abilities, to invite the dark side, to embrace your inner darkness, you are only bringing disaster and suffering to yourself." Luke shook his head. "This is a dangerous time for you, Saint. You know the Force now, for that is your right to know it and to be with it, but you don't have control of your abilities; when you don't have control, you'll lose yourself in a storm."

Saint Walker looked at Luke blankly. Then he raised his head to the stars and stared at them for a long time, driving his mind off somewhere else. He stared and stared off until he brought his head down to give Luke an answer—an answer Luke never thought he would hear.

"Teach me, Brother Skywalker."

Luke blinked. "What?"

"Train me on the ways of the Force," Saint requested. "You might find this hard to believe, but when I said that I found the answer I was looking for, the reason why the Force guided me here, well... You are the answer," he calmly points out and smiles at Luke. "You are the savior I was looking for!"

Luke's mouth went slack, and it stayed that way for a while. This wasn't the first time people suggested and proclaimed that he was some savior since he took down the first Death Star and that he was a Jedi. Many people placed a lot of trust in him because of that last fact. Luke did indeed think that the Force brought them together; that was as clear as ever. For what reason was the main question? Was it to show Saint Walker his true path and guide it where it should go? Was he here to show Saint Walker some sort of sign, a marker in which he could follow the next step to his journey? Or maybe even train Saint Walker to be a Jedi...

That last thought got stuck in Luke's head for a long time. "No," he told himself. Not every force-sensitive person is capable of becoming a Jedi. Ashoka Tano told him that some time ago. Even though her Jedi selflessness and humility were shown every time they met, her past as a Jedi strained her relationship with the order. The life of a Jedi was a deep commitment that couldn't be decided on a whim; it was something Saint Walker needed to love and think over, not wake up on a random day and say that he wanted to be a Jedi. As much as he would love the idea of training another forceful being to become a Jedi, where he wouldn't be alone anymore, he dropped that direction, thinking that might not be Saint Walker's destiny.

Luke shook his head, disappointed, and went to Saint Walker. "I'm no savior, Saint; I'm just a person wanting to do the right thing, to bring peace to everyone."

Saint Walker still stood firm, "Even if you're not the one I'm looking for, maybe I'll never find the savior to begin with," he admitted. "But what I did find is hope; you are that hope, Skywalker. You are the beacon of light this galaxy needs; you showed me that. If you are not the savior, then I must request that you train me to teach me these wondrous powers I have so I can use them for good. Show me the way to give off hope like light from a lantern that refuses to go out." In a surprising motion, Saint Walker genuflected onto the red, sandy ground, bowing his head. "I want to be your student."

Luke couldn't find any air to take in suddenly. Nervousness and uncertainty crawled up from the pits of his stomach. He found himself staring at the bowing Saint Walker in a shocked state. He wants to be a Jedi, even if he doesn't even know what a Jedi is. He was strong in the force; that was check one. He is honest and open-minded; that was check two. He sacrificed himself, putting himself in harm's way for those who couldn't protect themselves, willingly dying for the greater good. That was the centerpoint of what it means to be a Jedi.

Luke wanted to say, "Yes!" He wanted to say, "Of course, I'll train you," but he found he was unable to say anything at all, like if someone put two hands on his mouth, keeping from speaking. A fragment of him covered that mouth. A part of him that was filled with anxiety and doubt told him to be quiet because of one thought.

Can he train him?

Luke was never knighted to begin with. He has always lived with that insecurity after Yoda told him his training was complete and that once he dealt with the Sith, he would be the last Jedi. A Jedi that barely knows the 25,000-year history of the order and its techniques is now lost. How could he train someone when he was nothing but a joke of a Jedi compared to those who walked before him? How could he train someone when he doubted his Jedi training sometimes? How could he be a Jedi Knight when there are those who deserved the title more than him and those who didn't deserve it got it anyway? How in 25 millennia would any Jedi before him be better able to master him? How could he train Saint Walker to be a Jedi when Luke himself might not even be one to begin with?

Luke felt a ripple from the force that brought him out of his inner world. He couldn't detect what it specifically was, only that he felt something. Was it a warning? The force itself is telling Luke to be cautious. Was it the Force telling Luke that he could fail training Saint Walker under his tutelage? That he would fail Saint in keeping him safe or accidentally turn him into joining the dark side? Luke was worried about what it could be.

Or maybe it wasn't a warning, but granting permission. It was the Force granting Luke permission to train Saint Walker to be a Jedi. It was a feeling that Luke couldn't translate properly, and so he only stood like a statue. He and Saint Walker were in the red sand for minutes; silence surrounded them. To Luke, it felt like he waited through the same amount of time as the complete life cycle of a star, from its birth from concentrated dust and gas to its natural death in going into a supernova.

Luke finally blinked in what seemed like eternity. He gestured to Saint to stand at his full height and replied, "So, you want to be a Jedi?"

Saint Walker stood up and said with a determined tone, "If that is what you do, yes."

"The life of a Jedi isn't easy; it is dangerous and a thankless role. It is not just some job or trade you can pick up; it is a hard life. We will never stop training and cease learning the ways of the Force. I do not know how long it will take to train you, Saint," he said with honesty. "But if you are willing to accept this burden, this position in the Force, to study and train with me and understand all that I teach you, you can become a Jedi. Do you know and acknowledge the hardships that you will face? Do you accept that this will be your life going forward and that you are able to drop your old life and pick up a new one? Can you die right here right now, sacrificing yourself to save another?"

With no hesitation and with a trace of pride, Saint Walker accepted, "I say yes to all, Skywalker; I'll place my life into yours so you can teach me your Jedi ways."

Luke took a deep breath to wash his anxieties away. "Then you are my apprentice, Bro'Dee Walker, and it is my sworn duty to protect you with my life." He stepped to Saint and placed a hand on his shoulder. "And as your teacher, your master, I will teach you everything that you deserve to know so you can be a Jedi."

Saint Walker smiled, and Luke couldn't help but do the same thing back.

***​
Night covered the ocean after the ship landed on the island. The J-Wing touched down in the open spot earlier that day. The waves continued to crash and reconfigure on the beach. Birds were now roosting in their trees while insects did their nightly chants and chirps. Stars and constellations sprinkled the sky. Saint Walker looked and saw the tropical island for what it was.

He turned to see Luke and Shayera getting out of the ship, with Artoo closely behind. "Saint," Luke said, "there's a trail right over there; follow it and head to the house; I'll meet you there." Saint Walker nodded and did what he was told. Artoo beeped over and wheeled out of the landing spot. Luke and Shayera were alone, in front of the ship.

"Well," Luke huffed out. "That was something, wasn't it?"

Shayera, having the bag that had their other pair of clothes she got from the moon, shrugged. "If you call getting shot at and almost crashing into a gas giant something, then yeah! It was fun." Shayera dismissed the comment, "Nah, it was fine, actually."

Luke smiled and said, "Well, I'm glad about that."

Shayera smiled as well. "Yeah," she paused. "Hey Luke."

"What's up?" Luke curiously said:.

Shayera didn't say anything for a moment, then said, "I want to thank you for everything."

"Well, getting shot at wasn't really part of the plan, but..."

"No, that's not what I meant," she laughed. "I meant what you did back there, putting me back on track. I feel a lot better about myself now. I'm not afraid of being judged or seen anymore. I guess I'm able to live with myself now. Thanks for everything and for believing in me since we met. You're..." Shayera slightly blushed. "You're a good friend."

Luke was a little surprised at Shayera's change in appearance. "We're friends, Shayera; it's what we're supposed to do with each other."

Shayera's smile went away and she trained her eyes slowly on the ground. "Yeah, friends."

"Is there something up, Shayera?"

Shayera didn't answer and continued to stare at the ground. She was trying to bottle up something that he sensed, though he didn't know. All he could see and feel was that something passionate was in her, and it wanted to come out. "Are you alright, Shayera?"

"Yeah," she said distractedly, "just thinking."

"Thinking about what?" Luke softly inquired.

"It's about..." She trailed off somewhere else.

"Shayera," he said, stepping closer to her. "You said how you're able to live yourself now; that was the real you coming out. I can tell you're hiding something that you want to bring," he said, lifting his shoulders up. "Just let it out."

She started to look embarrassed. "I don't think you want me to do that, Luke." She looked to the side, refusing to go eye-to-eye.

"What are you afraid of?" Luke asked, "Am I being judgmental?" He somewhat chuckled, but realized that one of those moods came back to her. She still stared off into the distance, sheepishly looking at Luke.

He sighed, "Alright, Shayera." He glanced off to the trail to see Saint Walker leaving his vision. He went back to her and said, "I guess you."

Luke was stopped from finishing his sentence when Shayera's hands pulled him into her head, and her red lips connected to his in a warm kiss. His eyes went wide as hers were deep shut. She didn't let him go out of her grip after a long moment. When letting the kiss die by coming out of his face, she let out a slight restrained moan and looked into his eyes with a passionate gaze. Luke only stood there, bemused.

A second passed when horror entered her, and her face started to go hot red. "I-I..." Her head went from side to side in complete shock and disbelief. "I'm sorry, Luke, I." She didn't finish her explanation when her wings expanded and soared up to the dark sky.

"SHAYERA!" Luke called out to her desperately, but it was of no use. She disappeared into the dark clouds.

He should have used the force to stop her, but he didn't. Nothing, not even the Force, could have predicted what happened. That was the feeling Shayera was keeping in—what she was afraid of revealing. He slightly regretted asking her at all, but... relieved? Happy even? It didn't make sense; it was clear now that Shayera had something for him. For how long? He couldn't say. He just hoped this wasn't some phase or anything of that nature she was going through. It was one thing that she just came out of her self-isolation; he didn't need another that involved him more intimately. Then again, it was like he felt bad for kissing her; he didn't know if he should.

Shaking his head to get the thoughts out of his head, he realized he was tired and it would be best to head to bed. He could worry about Shayera later; for now, he has a Padawan to train.


***
Notes well, it's official now. We will see the next force sensitive that Luke will train in the next chapter. Also How do you guys think of the budding romance im doing with Luke and Shayera.​