?????

  I realize my arm isn't hurting so much anymore. As I flex my arm, testing it, I marvel at how quickly the pain has faded. The bacta spray, strange as it is, has worked wonders. I glance at Ryu, my gratitude unspoken but present in the way I hold his gaze a little longer than usual. There's something about him—something beyond the Force—that's keeping us all together. I don't know how to thank him for that, but for now, I'll settle for keeping pace by his side.

  Ryu then calls for Apollo and Nikko to join us in the camp. DP-7 receives the order to return as well. At the gate, Apollo arrives with Nikko. She runs to Ryu, relief washing over her face as she embraces him. She does the same to me, and I feel a profound sense of relief seeing her safe and sound.

  Nikko spots Ryu's wound and checks on it, her eyes wide with worry. He assures her that he has treated it and it will heal. Together, we begin searching the camp for food and other supplies. We find a large dining tent filled with tables and benches and a storage tent stocked with various foods: fresh vegetables, dried fruits, meats both raw and dried, breads, and an array of spices.

  A sick feeling washes over me. How can these soldiers eat so well when so many people are starving? The injustice gnaws at me. Ryu, sensing the mood, says, "I'll cook us something nice."

  Nikko's eyes light up with excitement, and even though the thought of the starving villagers still lingers in my mind, the prospect of a good meal after those terrible ready-to-eat rations lifts my spirits a bit. Apollo and DP-7 are tasked with watching the perimeter, allowing me to relax slightly.

  Nikko and I sit at one of the dining tables, hunger gnawing at us as we wait. I glance over at Ryu, watching him cook with a focused intensity. He must be just as exhausted as I am, yet he carries on, determined to provide a moment of normalcy for us.

  As the delicious smell of cooked meat begins to fill the air, I realize just how hungry I truly am. Nikko leans her head on my shoulder, her excitement palpable. Ryu brings out a couple of plates filled with cooked potatoes, vegetables, and chicken. The sight is mouthwatering, and we dig in eagerly.

  The taste is incredible, especially after those horrible rations. Nikko eats with enthusiasm, her tail swishing happily behind her. Ryu joins us with his own plate, and we eat together, giggling and enjoying the food. For a moment, the fear and tension of our situation fade away, replaced by the simple joy of sharing a meal.

  The warmth of the fire crackles softly as we eat together, a rare moment of peace amidst all the chaos. The taste of the food is incredible, especially after those tasteless rations we'd been surviving on. Nikko eats with enthusiasm, her tail swishing happily behind her. Every bite she takes is filled with delight, her joy contagious. Ryu joins us with his own plate, and for a brief moment, all the fear, the tension, the weight of our journey seems to melt away. We giggle, share smiles, and simply enjoy the pleasure of the food.

  The sound of Nikko's laughter, her innocence, is a stark contrast to everything we've faced. But then, her voice breaks through the contented quiet, her tone more serious than before.

  "Papa, Talia," she says, looking up from her plate, her brow furrowed, "why did those people catch fire? What happened?"

  The question hits like a stone. I stop eating, the warmth of the food suddenly feeling heavy in my stomach. Ryu's fork hovers in mid-air, and I can see him pause, his eyes briefly darkening with thought. Of course she saw. Nikko had been our spotter after all. I should've known she wouldn't simply forget what happened to those soldiers, the black flames that consumed them.

  Ryu puts down his plate, his expression tightening as he looks at Nikko, her innocent face filled with a mixture of curiosity and fear. His voice is careful, steady, though I can sense the uncertainty even in him. "I honestly don't know, sweetie," he says, his gaze softening as he looks at her. "I've never seen anything like it. Those men were... under something dark. Something beyond what we've faced before."

  Nikko's tail, which had been happily swishing, stills, and her ears twitch slightly. "Will I burst into flames too?" she asks, her voice trembling. The question catches me off guard, and I feel a pang in my chest. The fear in her eyes is unmistakable, and I can sense how deeply what she saw has shaken her.

  Ryu turns to her immediately, his face now serious, his eyes focused solely on his daughter. He places his plate down and reaches out to pull Nikko close, wrapping his arm protectively around her. "No, Nikko, you won't," he says, his voice firm, leaving no room for doubt. "Those men weren't just influenced by the Shadowfell, they worshipped it. They gave themselves over to it completely."

  Nikko looks up at him, her eyes wide. "But... but what if it tries to make me do that too?"

  Ryu tightens his hold on her, his jaw set with determination. "I won't let that happen," he assures her, his voice low but filled with resolve. "The Shadowfell can't control you, and I won't let it touch you. I promise, Nikko."

  I watch as Nikko's fear eases, though it doesn't vanish completely. She presses closer to Ryu, leaning into him as if seeking his protection, which he offers without hesitation. He strokes her hair softly, and though her trembling has calmed, I can tell there's still a lingering fear deep within her.

  As we continue our meal, the mood has shifted, the weight of Nikko's question hanging in the air. I glance at Ryu, noticing the flicker of worry still etched in his face. He hides it well, but I know him. I know the fear that lingers beneath the surface, not just for himself, but for Nikko—for all of us.

  I turn my attention back to my food, but my mind is elsewhere. The image of those soldiers, their bodies engulfed in black flames, haunts me. How many more are out there, willing to give their lives to the Shadowfell like that? How many more are under its control? And what exactly is it plotting?

  The questions swirl in my mind, and though I don't voice them, I know Ryu is thinking the same. The Shadowfell's reach is far greater than we ever imagined. We've only just begun to understand its influence, but the weight of what's to come feels overwhelming.

  I take another bite, forcing myself to enjoy the food, but I can't shake the feeling that the Shadowfell's shadow looms closer with every step we take.

  After the meal, we decided to call it a night, Nikko already fallen asleep, resting her arms and head on the table. Ryu gently picks her up, and together we picked one the many tents in this camp, one without any bloodstains. There were beds, one on each side, and chests by the beds. Armor racks stood by the tent flap, naked and bare. Ryu gently lies Nikko down, then lies down beside her. On instinct she cuddles close to him, and begins to purr. I lie down on the other bed, fatigue washing over me. I begin to drift off, once more to Nikko's soft purrs.

  ?????

  I wake up in the tent, the early morning light filtering through the fabric and casting a soft glow inside. Nikko is still asleep across from me, curled up peacefully with a faint smile on her lips. I quietly slip out of the tent, careful not to disturb her, and step into the cool morning air.

  I look around the camp and spot Ryu standing by his ship. The sight of it in its current state, its hull cut up and many parts strewn about, tugs at my heart. I walk over to him, noticing the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders are slightly hunched as he surveys the damage.

  "Good morning Ryu," I call softly as I approach, not wanting to startle him.

  He turns to look at me, his tone isn't cheerful. "Morning, Talia."

  I can see the sadness in his eyes, despite the shadow that usually obscures his face. "Are you alright?" I ask, concerned.

  He sighs deeply, his gaze returning to the wreckage. "She was a fine ship. It just breaks my heart seeing her like this."

  "How long have you flown her?" I ask gently.

  "About five or six years," he replies. "She may not have been the prettiest ship, but I've had a lot of good memories with her. Well, you've seen some of them," he adds, and I feel a pang of guilt.

  "Can the ship be fixed?" I ask.

  He shakes his head. "For now, no. I don't think she'll ever fly again. But even if she could, I still wouldn't want to leave this world."

  This surprises me, and I ask, "Why not?"

  He turns to me, a smirk on his face. "Because I have a reason to stay here."

  "You mean Nikko?" I ask, but he shakes his head.

  "Not just Nikko, but you as well."

  My heart skips a beat, and I feel my cheeks flush. "Me?" I manage to say, my voice almost a whisper.

  Ryu's voice softens as he looks at me, his tone filled with gratitude. "Yes, Talia. You've given me purpose, a reason to keep fighting. You've been my anchor in all of this. You risked everything—your life—to pull me back from the brink, from the Shadowfell's grip. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. You've given me the chance to fight for this world, for Nikko... and for you."

  Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, "What about Lyra?"

  I immediately regret it, fearing I might have sounded insensitive. But Ryu doesn't seem upset. Instead, his expression softens with a hint of melancholy.

  "When I met Lyra, I was in a dark place. Always on my own, never trusting anyone. It was a lonely life. She taught me to trust others or at least start to. She made my life enjoyable. But I always wonder..." he trails off.

  "Wonder what, Ryu?" I ask gently.

  "If I was being selfish," he says.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I was always hiding. Never stayed in the same place for long or hid deep enough in plain sight. Certain times, the Empire was hot on my trail. But I never really stood against them. When I used my lightsaber to save Lyra, that was the first time I had used it since the attack on the Jedi Temple," he explains. "A part of me wanted to throw it away or destroy it after I met Lyra."

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Ryu holds up his lightsaber hilt. "With my abilities, I could have been a thorn in the Empire's side. Maybe helped other surviving Jedi, but I didn't. I ran instead. And when I met Lyra, I just wanted to live a simple life with her. Looking back, I often ask myself, was I being selfish?"

  I shake my head, meeting his gaze. "No, Ryu. You weren't being selfish. You were trying to survive. It's not wrong to want a life, to find happiness. And you did help people, even if it wasn't in the way you think you should have."

  He nods gratefully. "Lyra was my anchor up there," he gestures to the sky. "But down here, you're my anchor. You've brought me out of a very dark place, risking your life to do so. Thank you, truly."

  His words warm my heart, and I can feel my cheeks flushing again. "Ryu, I... I'm glad I could help. You've done the same for me. I feel stronger with you by my side."

  We stand there, the morning air cool around us, sharing a quiet moment of understanding and connection. The bond between us feels stronger than ever, and I can see the gratitude and respect in his eyes.

  Before we can say more, a small voice interrupts. "Papa? Talia?"

  We turn to see Nikko, sleepy-eyed and yawning, standing at the edge of the camp. She rubs her eyes and walks over to us, her presence a comforting reminder of why we fight.

  Ryu crouches down and opens his arms, and Nikko rushes into his embrace. "Good morning, sweetie," he says, his voice gentle.

  "Morning, Papa," she mumbles, still half-asleep.

  After a quick breakfast, we get to work salvaging whatever we can from the wrecked ship. The interior is in even worse shape than the outside—if that's even possible. The walls are scarred and warped from the crash, with loose panels hanging precariously or missing altogether. Exposed wires dangle from the ceiling like dead vines, sparking occasionally as they sway. The control center, or what's left of it, is a mess. Every seat is torn, twisted beyond recognition, the force of the crash having left them mangled and pathetic. Every drawer and cabinet has been ransacked, leaving behind nothing but debris and scattered pieces of broken equipment on the cold metal floors. It's like walking through the skeleton of a beast long dead.

  Ryu moves with a certain determination, pulling apart what he can salvage. Nikko, ever eager to help, follows closely behind, handing him tools or parts while I assist wherever needed. The place feels hollow, the echoes of our footsteps unnerving, and yet Ryu seems unfazed—focused, if anything.

  As we step into what's left of the bridge, the devastation becomes even more apparent. Most of the room is crushed and caved in, debris piled high in every corner. The roof has collapsed in parts, and jagged metal beams jut out like broken bones. And then I see it—lying partially buried under the wreckage—IG-22.

  I recognize it instantly from Ryu's memories. The droid's torso and legs are crushed under the weight of the collapsed ceiling, sparks occasionally flickering from exposed circuits. Its head and upper chest are visible, but the rest is hopelessly trapped beneath layers of twisted metal.

  Ryu, however, doesn't seem disheartened by the sight. In fact, he looks... pleased? I raise an eyebrow, puzzled. "What's got you in a good mood?" I ask.

  He turns to me with a faint smile. "IG-22 can be fixed."

  I blink in disbelief, looking at the wrecked droid and then back at him. "Seriously? You have the means to fix that?"

  Ryu nods confidently. "Lyra kept a lot of spare droid parts. She was meticulous—wrote down everything she worked on. As long as IG-22's internal components aren't completely fried, I can bring it back online."

  I can't help but feel a small smile tug at my lips too. While I remember what this droid is capable of from Ryu's memories—how it had once hunted him and Lyra—it's hard not to think about how useful IG-22 could be on our side now.

  "Well," I say, crossing my arms, "he could definitely be a great addition to the team. And hopefully, he won't be as... aggressive this time."

  Ryu chuckles. "He won't." His gaze lingers on the droid, a glint of hope in his eyes, as he starts examining what can be salvaged.

  All day, we work together to move the various pieces of furniture, components, and anything else that might be useful. The sun climbs higher in the sky as we continue our efforts. Nikko, ever the diligent helper, takes breaks more frequently, often bringing us food and water to keep us going. Her cheerful presence and small acts of kindness lighten the mood, making the grueling task more bearable.

  By the time we finish, the sun is high in the sky. We've managed to empty the ship of its entire storage and furnishings, organizing everything in neat piles beside the wreckage. Among the items are a broken speeder bike, various damaged blasters, and many different droid parts. The sight is both disheartening and hopeful; there's a sense of accomplishment in having salvaged so much, yet a sorrow in seeing it all reduced to this state.

  As we take a moment to rest, I decide to cook for us. I head to the pantry tent, amazed at the variety of ingredients available. I find fresh vegetables, various spices, and enough supplies to make a dish reminiscent of my homeland. The dish comes together nicely, the aroma of spices and cooked chicken filling the air. The scent is comforting, a reminder of better times.

  As I cook, I feel a sense of satisfaction and joy. It's a relief to focus on something other than survival, to create something that will bring pleasure to Ryu and Nikko. When the meal is ready, I call them over. The look of delight on their faces as they taste the food brings a warm feeling to my heart.

  We sit together, enjoying the meal. Nikko's eyes light up with every bite, and Ryu smiles, the tension in his face easing for the first time in days. The flavors are rich and comforting, a brief respite from our struggles. For a moment, it feels like we're just a normal family sharing a meal, not fugitives on the run.

  After our meal, Ryu stands and begins clearing away the plates, with Nikko eagerly assisting. When everything is tidied up, he walks over to the remains of the ship and kneels before it. Confused, Nikko asks what he's doing, and he tells her, "I'm going to dismantle the ship now." Raising his arm towards the ship, he concentrates. I watch, captivated, as the ship begins to come apart before my eyes. Bolts and screws pop out one by one, suspended in the air for a moment before falling into neat piles. Wires snake out from the ship's interior, coiling and twisting like metallic vines before settling into a large heap.

  Piece by piece, the ship disassembles in an almost rhythmic fashion. The engines, once a powerful heart of the vessel, are carefully dismantled, their components separated and sorted. Floor panels lift and float away, revealing the underlying structure, which soon follows in a similar manner. Support beams, once sturdy and strong, are gently removed, each part handled with precision. The process is mesmerizing, a dance of metal and machinery guided by Ryu's unseen hand. Despite having witnessed Ryu's abilities many times, the sight still leaves me in awe. The sheer control and power required to disassemble such a large structure piece by piece are astounding.

  Once the ship is entirely disassembled, the ground is littered with organized piles of bolts, wires, panels, and various other parts. The meticulousness of it all is remarkable. Ryu then shifts the earth beneath the ship's former resting place, creating a smooth, unmarked surface. It's as if the ship was never there, the ground showing no signs of the crash or the dismantling that just took place. Despite the accomplishment, I can see the sorrow in Ryu's eyes as he gazes at the empty spot, a silent farewell to a vessel that held so many memories for him.

  ?????

  By the time we finish moving everything into our pouches of holding, the sun is beginning to set. Exhausted, we collapse onto the ground, taking a moment to catch our breath. Ryu looks particularly worn out, his eyes lingering on the spot where the ship once stood. Nikko looks up at him, concern in her eyes. "Are you okay, Papa?" she asks softly.

  Ryu nods but doesn't seem to find his voice for a moment. Finally, he says, "I want to visit Lyra. Do you both want to come with me?"

  I'm a bit confused by this, wondering how it's possible to visit her, but I agree, and so does Nikko. We leave the camp and head towards a hillside. The path is quiet, and the air grows cooler as we walk. At the top of the hill, an apple tree stands, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. Below it lies a grave. The setting sun casts a warm glow over the landscape, making it look almost ethereal. The view is breathtaking, with the valley stretching out beneath us, bathed in the soft, golden light of the evening.

  We approach the grave, and I read the inscription on the headstone: 'Here rests Lyra. Loyal friend, steadfast companion, and the heart that kept us flying. The stars are dimmer without her.' A pang of grief hits me as I see Ryu kneel before Lyra's grave. Nikko joins him, her ears drooping and tail still. I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I should intrude on this personal moment, but then I kneel beside them, feeling that being here together is the right thing to do.

  We sit in silence for a while, the rustling of the leaves and the distant call of birds the only sounds breaking the stillness. The air feels heavy, yet calm, as if the world itself knows the weight of this moment. I watch Ryu as he gazes at the headstone, his face mostly hidden beneath the shadow of his hood. His expression is unreadable, but I can feel the tension in him, the quiet storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface.

  After a while, he reaches out and takes my hand, his grip firm but gentle. I look over at him, and though his face is obscured, I can sense the depth of his sorrow and gratitude. He doesn't need to say anything—I can feel it in the way he holds my hand, in the silence that stretches between us.

  Then, Ryu breaks the silence. "I always wonder what Lyra would think of this world," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying a weight that resonates deeply. "How she would fit into all of this."

  I glance over at him, noticing the calm on his face—not the overwhelming grief I'd sometimes see, but rather a quiet acceptance. There's still that twinkle in his eyes, though. He still misses her, that much is clear, but it's no longer the unbearable ache it once was.

  "What do you think?" I ask gently, my voice low, not wanting to disrupt the fragile peace we've found in this moment.

  Ryu's eyes remain on the headstone as he speaks, his voice tinged with both sadness and fondness. "She would have adapted," he says with a soft smile, one that carries memories of love and loss. "She always found a way to thrive, no matter where she was. This world... it would have challenged her, but she would've found her place, like she always did."

  I can't help but smile at that. It's clear that Lyra was an important part of his life, someone who had left a lasting mark on him. And even though I've never met her, I can feel the impact she had, the strength she gave him.

  "Lyra would've liked you, you know."

  I glance at him, surprised. "She would have?"

  He nods, his smile small but sincere. "Absolutely. You're strong, Talia. You've got a fire in you, a determination that doesn't waver, no matter the odds. Lyra was the same way—once she set her mind on something, nothing could stop her."

  I feel a warmth in my chest at his words, but I can't help the question that rises next. "How so?"

  Ryu's eyes soften as he reflects, his voice filled with nostalgia. "Lyra respected those who stood up for what they believed in, no matter how dangerous the path. She'd admire how you've risked everything for us, for me. When I was lost to the Shadowfell, you didn't give up. She would have seen that strength in you and respected it."

  I can feel my cheeks warm at his words, but it's more than just the compliment—it's knowing that Lyra, someone who clearly meant so much to Ryu, would have felt that way about me.

  "She would've liked your stubbornness too," Ryu adds, a teasing glint in his eyes. "You remind me of her in that way. You both refuse to back down when you know you're right."

  I laugh softly at that, shaking my head. "Stubbornness, huh? Is that your way of telling me I'm difficult?"

  Ryu chuckles, his expression lightening. "Not at all. It's one of the things I appreciate most about you."

  I smile at him, feeling a little more connected to this person I never met but who was so important in Ryu's life. "I would've liked to have met her."

  Ryu looks at me, his expression filled with that deep, quiet affection that always makes my heart skip a beat. "She would've liked to have met you too, Talia."

  "What about me, Papa?" Nikko's soft voice breaks the moment, her tone gentle but filled with curiosity. She's been quietly sitting by our side, but now she looks up at Ryu, her eyes wide with a mix of innocence and hope.

  Ryu turns to her, a warmth filling his gaze as his smile grows. "Lyra would have taken you in as her pupil," he says with a chuckle. "She would've taught you everything she knows—how to fix droids, how to navigate star systems, how to stand up for what you believe in." He pauses, his smile softening. "She would've loved you, Nikko. Just as I do."

  Nikko's ears perk up at his words, and her tail swishes happily behind her. "Really?" she asks, her voice filled with wonder.

  "Really," Ryu replies, his smile genuine and full of affection. "She had a way of seeing potential in people. You would've been one of her best students."

  I feel a warmth spread through me as I watch them. Ryu's love for Nikko is undeniable, and the way he speaks about Lyra with such fondness shows me just how much of an impact she had on him. And yet, here we are, creating new memories, building a future that Lyra herself might have envisioned for Ryu.

  We sit there a little while longer, sharing the silence and the peace that has settled between us. The world feels a little quieter, but in a way that feels right. Not filled with grief, but with acceptance.