I should be grateful such a plush and cushy post was open. I should have appreciated the circumstances were too good to be true. I don’t know. Clara said she pulled too many strings to warrant this ‘sure thing’; that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

This wellness facility…”

“Pause playback. Commander, this is our only account recovered from the moon-incident?” Captain Shredor did not move from his position on the upper-level of the bridge. The stars had always been a comfort for him. They would persist long after the Star Destroyer, support vessels, and personnel under his command inevitably extinguish.

The senior officer broke what he interpreted as an unacceptable, lengthy period of silence, “Sir, rest assured, records will be thoroughly screened, hence forth.”

Discerning apprehension, Captain Shredor afforded himself an unfamiliar smile.

”Continue playback.”

“…when I wouldn’t be stupid enough to criticize in a public forum, these ‘sessions’ do me a great deal of well.

We had another disturbance, today. Our young guest destroyed two med droids and crushed his fourth breathing apparatus. What was to be a month’s layover has turned into five months of paperwork and undue droid turnover. His ‘case’ passed from one remote location to the next. Three tentatively scheduled transports have failed to reach this damned moon. I’m not sure if anyone would mind if I remained the guardian of our galaxy’s problem child. If today’s scheduled freighter fails to complete its mandate, I will circumvent the conventional transportation procedures. The Trade Federation of old wouldn’t keep up with the fiscal demands of this… force of unnatural law.”

“Regeal, personal log:

They’ve arrived! He’s onboard, secure from what I’m told. All that remains is confirmation of the freighter’s onboard stasis conversion. This will be the first time in months he’s been unbound by a backup force field, loss of equipment is to be expected. Not my problem. I think I’ll take that vacation Cla-”

“The rest is inaudible. We can surmise the epicenter of the crater, here. It had served as the out-bound transfer chamber.” The seasoned commander concluded the presentation of evidence he had prepared.

Hyperspace

The long distance transport ship had been refitted for peace-time freight work, its directive of a subtle nature. Piloted by a centralized droid and supported by half a dozen astrometric droids in strategic positions, the freighter was a living body in need of recovery. Repair efforts focused on the breached starboard hatch. An unexplained but anticipated power spike in the aft section was responsible for the hyperdrive failure. Power had been offline and rerouted with dexterity, a calculated contingency. A solitary life support chamber distinguished a ship breed for war. The lifeless crew finished the necessary adjustments with mechanical precision.

“Height: One and eighty eight hundredths meters. Weight: Ninety one and sixty three hundredths kilograms. Cybernetics: Forearm prosthetic within optimum parameters. Vitals: Stable.”

“Identity confirmed. Designation: Loban. Race: Human.”

Planet Wayland, Honoghr Space

Photons composing the holographic med droid dissipated as the communications terminal deactivated. A hooded figure swept from the room with serene purpose.

The droid guided transport set down on a reserved pad adjacent to one of the few remaining public ports on Wayland. Granted access to the ship’s sole chamber designed to sustain organic life, the cloaked humanoid strode up the ramp.

“Revive him, release the stasis field.”

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

Wrenched components of the proud warship dominated the moment. The comatose man was a magnet of positive and negative charges, time warped as the occupying droids revolved in the chamber.

Loban’s eyelids responded, and with an explosion as electric as his blue eyes, the overwhelmed starship shattered between the two men. He rose, absorbing the impact his devastation had caused. Staying himself with a desultory hand gesture, the concealed man was now exposed in segments by lines from the Honoghr sun. Sweeping his left shoulder loose of debris, the alien figure assumed a new gesture.

“Defend yourself.”

A middle-aged man adorned in simple robes sat across from his bound guest. Distinctive characteristics were made available by the absence of his hood, now resting comfortably on his neck. A kempt beard, green eyes, and shoulder-length auburn hair quickly defined the human male.

Loban awoke to a conflicted, foggy mind and thunderous temples. Assessing the developing circumstances proved increasingly difficult. His determination to focus tightened the vise, turn by turn.

“This will help your head.” Unfamiliar contents of a cylinder container coagulating over the open camp fire met Loban’s nostrils.

“You’ve sustained a mild concussion. Eat this.” The elder man filled a mug with the foreign contents and held it for Loban to accept. “These roots are indigenous to the ecosystem; I understand they act as a pain reliever. “

Suddenly impatient, the man continued, “Don’t be rude. This will help.”

His hands bound from behind, Loban sensed the man's patronizing inflection and decided against responding. Assuming he had the voice for it. Investigating his surroundings through the fog he surmised a forest setting.

Patience and understanding returned, “Well, you’ve mastered the pain, after all.”

“Now…” The stranger stood, average height for his race and gender. “My name is Kal Tane.” A hilt materialized in his right hand. “Defend yourself.” Left hand met right as the green-bladed lightsaber ignited.

“You’ll find your means in that tree, resting on a branch approximately 20 meters from where you meet your end.”

Loban took to his feet, and to the man’s cue. Reaching to the Force he called the lightsaber from the branch. His initial gesture was unsuccessful.

“Come now, boy. Use the Force. Don’t play coy.” Kal mocked.

This is the entity I’ve been seeking all these years? Ridiculous, he has no understanding. What a sad resolution. Pathetic.

“Are you concentrating?!” Fury and reckless abandon defined his mad rush on Loban.

Dodging and weaving, Loban managed to shoulder his opponent. Disorienting the armed man for a fleeting moment, the younger man kicked free from the base of the tree. His target now airborne, Kal turned and inadvertently freed Loban of his binds with a mighty, uncalculated swing. Kal’s exaggerated swing had exposed opportunity, as a rotting branch cracked his ribcage. With that, Loban set to climbing the tree.

“Impressive. Can you comprehend what I’ve sacrificed for this moment? Sparing no expense. Corresponding with locals, mercenaries, common thugs. You’ll find the galaxy more dangerous than you left it, Loban of Tattooine. Corruption and influence are the currency of today. I’ve followed your movements, sensed your undisciplined outbursts for three years. Your raw power belongs with me. There will be only one. I am the one.”

Enough of this. His is mine.

The enormous trunk devoured the green hue of the lightsaber. Moments into clearing his lightsaber through the trunk to bring the ancient tree to rest on the forest floor, Kal’s senses spiked. Heavy branches rained down by the dozen on his immediate vicinity. Impaled several times, Kal Tane died almost instantly from his injuries.

The blue-bladed lightsaber extinguished its life. Loban let the hilt drop and fell into the tree to rest on his haunches.

I can feel it.

He twisted and contracted his prosthetic hand, willing the hilt to move.

Why can’t I manipulate it…