I do not own any of the Star Wars and DC characters and ideas represented in this work.

Commander Karag, Captain of the Sharpclaw, was enjoying himself in his free time in his private quarters when his comlink activated, he groaned in annoyance. Picking up the comlink, he brought it up to his face and clicked it in, "What is it?" He didn't bother to hide the contempt in his voice.

"Sir, we have a problem onboard the bridge, I'm requesting your presence," Lieutenant Commander Vos, the Sharpclaw second-in-command, replied through electronic static.

Karag gritted his sharp teeth, "You are capable of dealing with problems by yourself," he said, "You don't need to inform me about every decision you make while you take charge of the bridge, Vos."

A brief pause elapsed before Vos responded, "Yes, Captain," a sense of controlled urgency entered in Vos's voice that was transmitted through the communicator, "But there's been a problem with Lieutenant Ishtak's shore leave from Galtos, and I believe it was necessary to contact you, sir."

Karag grumbled out, "Of course it's Ishtak."

Lieutenant Ishtak always took the opportunity to take shore leave when the Sharpclaw entered a spaceport. Ishtak would waste his pay on booze, gambling, and mammalian harlots without fail, all of which Karag didn't care as long as it didn't interfere with the Sharpclaw's schedule. Now it seems like Ishtak has been causing trouble lately.

Exiting out of his quarters, Karag went to the Sharpclaw's octangular-like corridors and walked his path towards the bridge. On the way there, sailors and low-ranking officers gave Karag their proper courtesies and saluted the passing Captain. Karag on the other hand, gave a half-attempt of a return salute for each one he got.

When entering the bridge, a charm was sent out to alert the bridge's crew of the Captain's entrance and they stood at attention. Karag gave a wave of dismissal and the crew went back to their duties. Since the bridge was divided into three declining layers, with the Captain's seat and on the middle layer, right next to the helms and tactical center, Karag went to his seat. On his seat was Vos, who got out of the seat, went to attention, saluted Karag and gave the bridge's control back to the Captain. Karag rolled his eyes and actually gave a proper salute in return.

"Come to the point, Vos," Karag demanded, wanting to return back to his quarters. Then his reptilian eyes picked up something he forgot to notice when he entered the bridge. They weren't in Hyperspace. Instead of the blue glow that should've filled the bridge's large observation window, it was the pitch blackness of space. And from the looks of the constellations and the blue gas giant that wasn't too far, they were still at Galtos. They should have been out-system an hour ago. That'll put Sharpclaw's schedule behind, the special cargo in the detention center will spoil more for the time wasted.

Then Karag got a feeling that Ishtak may have something to do with this. Karag's lips curled to show his teeth and looked at Vos, "Why are we not in hyperspace?"

Vos explained, "Well, sir, that was the reason why I called you here, we lost contact with Lieutenant Ishtak and his men approximately an hour ago. Just minutes before I called you here, their shuttle entered our sensor range but they haven't picked up our hail."

Karag squinted his eyes, "Show me."

"Yes, sir," and Vos led Karag to the communications station that was on the top layer, right of the bridge's door.

Vos showed Karag the comm station with the main comm officer seated, performing his duties. There, he saw a screen displaying the same shuttle Ishtak took out with his men. To Karag, it looked like there were no problems, all the specifications, all amounts of information seemed accurate.

"What am I supposed to see, Vos?

"That is what I'll be getting to, sir," Vos then pressed over to a button next to the comm officer that switched the screen to a security code, and it showed that it was outdated. "Before we made our hail sir," Vos said, "They sent an outdated security to request landing."

Karag looked over to the screen and back to Vos, it was no doubt that Ishtak got drunk and failed to provide a proper security code for boarding. He will swear to Karna himself, if Karag gets the fleet commander on his back for being late because of Ishtak, the Lieutenant will have his scales peeled off.

The Captain takes the comm link that was connected to the communications station out of anger, pulling up to his face, he signaled the comm officer to make a connection to hail the shuttle. The comm officer pushed several buttons then gestured to the Captain that he was connected.

"This is Commander Karag, Captain of the Sharpclaw, I demand you identify yourself," he let go of the comlinks button and let the other person talk through, there was only static.

Karag repeated his message with a hint of annoyance, "This is Commander Karag, I demand you identify yourself or we will shoot you down!"

The buzzing static in the comlink's speaker only replied, Karag hissed, "Lieutenant Ishtak!" Karag went straight to the point, thinking that Ishtak, that Bruct boy, and their men all got drunk and were trying to reply to him without sounding intoxicated. "Ishtak! You better reply to me or we're going to jump into Hyperspace with or without you. Do YOU understand?!"

Nothing came, "ISHTAK!" Karag both of his hands onto the comlink, he yelled loud enough that some of the bridge crew stopped at what they're doing and looked over to the Captain. Karag himself looked like he was going to pop an artery and his green skin on his face was becoming a darker shade of green. "Ishtak, you better respond or-"

Karag was about to finished his beratement on Ishtak before a very friendly voice that Karag didn't recognize replied through the comlink, "There is no trouble here, Captain."

Karag blinked a couple of times, of course there were no problems! Why would the Captain get worked up if there were no problems whatsoever? He's sure that Ishtak or whoever spoke on the other side of the comlink has everything under control onboard the shuttle and had a reasonable excuse on why they were tardy.

Karag looked over to Vos, "There's no trouble here." Vos gave Karag a confusing stare, then stared at the comm officer who in turn gave a shrug that suggested he had no idea what's going on.

"You will let us board with no problems," the very reasonable and polite voice said from the comlink. Honestly, who needs security codes or identification procedures? All of it was just a formality, something for the stuffy bureaucrats of the Empire would enforce so it would give themselves purpose with logs and paperwork.

Karag nodded in agreement, "We will let you board with no problems," Vos yellow eyes went wide.

"Sir, I don't think that's a good idea," Vos advised, "It's not proper Imperial protocol to-,"

"I'm the Captain here!" Karag snapped, "And by Imperial rule, I have the authority to say that they are cleared, Vos!"

Vos kept looking defiant but went to attention, "Yes, sir."

Karag puts back then comlink into the comm station and points at Vos, "Starting the docking process for them, immediately afterwards that they are done, prep the Sharpclaw for hyperspace."

Vos declined his head in obedience, "Yes, sir."

"Anything else?"

Vos looked like he wanted to say something but didn't, "Nothing to add, sir."

"Good," Karag said in a satisfying way, "Now if there are no problems, I'll be in my quarters."

"Yes, sir."

Karag put his hands behind his back while leaving the bridge, the comm officer started to talk with the shuttle about docking procedures. Hopefully, Karag will finally be left alone.

"That was close," Luke said, going further into his seat while relaxing his grip on the alien yoke.

Next to him was Shayera, in the co-pilot seat, turning her head to him, "I don't see why we couldn't have blasted our way in with the Javelin."

"J-Wing," Luke corrected.

Shayera rolled her eyes, "Whatever," she turned her gaze to the front window, where the Sharpclaw was slowly getting bigger. "I still think we should just knock their teeth in before we make the rescue."

Luke looked over to her, "That's what it is, Shayera, a rescue, not a slaughter."

Shayera slightly narrowed her eyes, "Tell that to the Gordanians," she crossed her arms, "I'm sure they'll love it when you'll them preach about how they should rethink their lives."

Luke gave Shayera an expression that meant he was serious and genuine, "I would give them that chance if I could."

Shayera didn't say anything, she went back to gazing at the Sharpclaw. "Trust me, Shayera," Luke said, "It might be easier to rush in with blasters blazing, but doing that we would be risking the lives of the captives." He put his focus back onto the controls made for Gordanian hands. "It's a risk we can't start with."

Shayera objected, "And having Artoo blasting the cruiser outside isn't it?"

Luke shook his head, "It's a distraction, not an actual attack, I only told Artoo to fly the ship around them to make them think they're under attack. That'll give us time and eyes off our backs while inside."

"And you're sure he can pull it off?" Shayera asked.

Luke sneered, "Trust me, Artoo has been through a lot, this won't be a problem."

Of course, Artoo doesn't think the same way, seeing how Artoo thought about it he would have been better if he would have used the X-Wing for this. Since they're light years away from Earth, that's not gonna happen. Artoo also complained how the J-Wing was technically in its testing phase, meaning that it hasn't actually been through a combat scenario. With that, Artoo followed up that he had doubts on the weapons on the J-Wing and how they should have put in more firepower in it.

Luke reminded his astrodoid friend that the J-Wing was intended for transport and defense, not blowing up capital ships. Luke also reminded Artoo that he didn't need to blast the ship, all that he needed to do was to draw out the ship's attention to him so they could perform the rescue, nothing more. Luke could only hope that Artoo doesn't go overboard, but he fully trusts his Artoo on anything.

The Jedi turned his head to see Saint Walker, seated in one of the passenger seats behind them. He could tell the Astonian was nervous, one leg was shaking by going up to down, some sweat was rolling on his face, and he was attempting to calm himself with passages of religious prayers.

Luke went to Shayera, "Take over, I gotta talk to Saint." Shayera nodded and she switched to the pilot's seat, putting her in control of the yoke.

Luke walked over to a seat next to Saint. "Nervous?"

Saint stopped his prayers and looked to Luke, "Heh, I suppose so."

Luke sat the seat next to Saint, placed his elbows onto his knees, and slightly leaned forward to be honest , "You haven't been to an actual battle before, have you?"

Saint shook his head truthfully, "My planet never really needed the use of war, Skywalker, even so I was a religious man."

"Was?" Luke asked in curiosity.

Saint drew his eyes downward, looking like he was sorry for himself, "I…I won't lie to you, my faith in recent times has," Saint didn't say anything for a small gap of time before finishing with, "Faltered a bit."

"And why do you think that's the case?"

Saint searched the answer in his head and replied sadly, "It just seems like these times are specifically designed to challenge my spirit, Skywalker, anyone's really. To see the world for what it is…that might be the reason why I can't find comfort in my own faith anymore." Saint played with his hands for a little bit, as if finding to hide his anxieties.

Luke saw this thought of something that could help Saint and maybe even show Luke how much connected to the Force the Astonian is, "You know what I do when I get anxious?" Saint looked up to Luke in curiosity.

"Here I'll show you," Luke crossed his legs into the chair, since all the chairs were made to house Gordanian bodies, they were somewhat big for all three of them. Luke gestured to Saint to follow his movement.

Saint did the same thing, Luke then put his hand onto his elbows, putting him into his usual meditation stance. Saint followed him. "Alright," Luke instructed in a calm manner, "Close your eyes," both of them shut their eyes, "Breathe slowly."

Saint breathing became slower and slower. After some moments, Luke felt Saint's anxiety was something going down, a good start. "Okay," Luke said "Now I want you to let go."

Saint didn't open his eyes but tilted his head slightly, "Let go?"

Luke nodded while eyes not opening, "Let go of everything you hold, your thoughts, your mind, what you hate and love, let go of your very emotions, be an empty vessel."

Saint took in a breath and let out it. "Very well." Both of them didn't say anything for a little bit. Luke could sense Saint getting calmer, just a little bit. Moments passed with only the hum of the shuttle's engines being heard. Shayera didn't bother to look back.

"Alright," Luke said after the pause. "Now imagine an ocean," Luke described as Saint Walker's mind was putting a picture of it. "This ocean is wide, expansive, it's deeper than what you can imagine. Every living creature that lives in that ocean, the plants, the fish, prey and predators alike are part of that very ocean. When they die, they become one with it."

Luke can feel Saint Walker picturing this hypothetical ocean, trying to make sense of this feeling, a feeling from the Force. He can feel Saint feeling the Force around him, but not quite understanding it.

"Now feel yourself in that very ocean," Luke continued, "You're at the surface now, it's calm and still. Do you see it?" Luke asked, Saint nodded while keeping his eyes shut, "Then submerge yourself in it, go under its surface and into its depth. Feel its waters all around you. Feel the currents that are in it, be swept up by it, let it guide your path where it needs to go…be one with it."

Luke can feel Saint Walkers essence coming closer to the Force. It was like dipping a toe in water; he tested it first, but now he dives into it. He can feel Saint's pains and struggles wash away, and what comes with it is serenity. For Saint Walker, he has entered into a larger world, he was both amazed by it and horrified by what he felt.

Saint Walker opened his eyes, speechless, and was shown all over his face. Words were not able to explain what he felt. "That…Ocean is…real?"

Luke had a satisfied smile, as seen by Saint Walker's observation. He opened his eyes as well, "That Ocean, Saint," He leaned in to put his hand onto Saint's arm, "Is the Force."

Saint Walker cocked his head, trying to think of the word, it was alien to him as it was strange, "The Force?"

Luke nodded. This time, for his explanation, he doesn't need to make it simple to understand; yes, Saint Walker has never heard of the Force; however, Luke can explain a little more since Saint can actually experience the Force around. "The Force is an energy field that every living thing creates and it is the source of life itself. It's all around us, ties the Universe together. You and me, Saint, are the few beings that have a gift to feel the Force around us, we're attuned to it, we can channel its power in us. Tell me, when you quiet your mind and clear it, do you get strong gut feelings?"

Saint Walker blinked at Luke, trying to process everything that was thrown at him. He gave Luke some time of silence, unsure of the question before finding some instances of the experience. "I had once," he took a deep breath in order to calm himself to relive the memory.

"Take your time, Saint," Luke reassured the Astonian.

Saint nodded, he took in a few more breaths, closing his eyes to remember what happened and then said his answer. "I have once, when the Gordanians attacked Astonia, I thought I could find the savior that was prophesied among my people to save us when the end was near." He paused for a moment, "I took my family to a tall mountain, Mount Helious, it was said that was where the savior could be found." Grief got to Saint, "My family didn't survive the track up. When I reached the top, I found nothing, but just when I lost hope, I felt…" Saint couldn't put words on what he felt.

Luke decided to finish his description, "A guiding hand?"

Saint went up a little in surprise, "Yes!" he said as if he had the answer on the tip of his tongue, "It was something I quite can't really describe, it was as if someone was telling me where to go. That… feeling guided me here."

"Just as I thought," Luke said out his suspensions out loud, "What you felt, Saint, was the will of the Force. It told you to come here for a purpose."

A look of confusion gave rise into Saint's eyes, "The Force guided me here?"

Luke nodded, "Beings with our gift, like you and me, can quiet our minds and hear the whispers of the Force, to hear its will."

Saint gave himself to think, "Is…the Force a god?"

Luke shook his head, "No, not quite, at least not my understanding. All I can say, Saint, the Force willed you to come here for a purpose."

"What is that purpose then?"

Luke gave a slow shrug, "I don't, I could meditate on it, maybe give you my own opinion. But at the end of the day, Saint, you have to interpret what the Force whispers to you."

Saint looked at Luke, "I think I understand, well…at least this gift I do."

Luke adopted a comforting smile, "In time, you will understand. Even to this day, I still don't know many things about the Force, well all might never know it's mysteries. But, when you feel lost, when you don't know where to go, clear your mind, and let the Force in you so it can guide you."

Saint nodded in acknowledgement through distracted, he was still deep in thought.

"Luke," Shayera said at the pilot's seat, "We're coming up."

Luke turned to the shuttle's cockpit window. The cruiser's size was now in full display. The Gordanian cruiser had a orb shape design. On the ships port and starboard sides, were two long straight dorsal fins. On the ship's forward were two heavy-plasma cannons. He went to the front controls of the ship to scan the displays that showed the readings of the cruiser. At the moment, the Gordanians haven't found anything amiss. No scans showed that they were being locked on by the cruiser's point-defense systems or the cruiser sending out their fighters to shoot them down. For all of the Gordanians know, Ishtak and their men just now got back from the moon with no problems attached. Just what Luke needed for the next step of the plan.

Shayera slowly guided the shuttle into a hangar between the ship's dorsal thins. The shuttle's engines were coming slower and were dying down as they started the landing procedures. After some moments, she landed in the hangar with the engine powered off. From inside of the shuttle's window, Luke can tell there were at least ten starfighters docked in the sides of the hangar, and assuming the other hangar from the other side has the same number, that will make it twenty. Ground crews and maintenance workers were walking about, doing their casual duties.

Luke turned to Shayera who looked at him back and nodded that she was ready. He went back to Saint Walker, who was still seated. Saint felt the gaze and nodded as well. With all of them ready, Luke pulled out his comlink and activated it, "Artoo, you there?"

"Artoo, you there?" R2's audio sensor recognized the voice as Master Lukes. R2 pulled the comlink with one of his compartmental arms and whistled that he was there.

"Good, start the destruction. But remember," Luke said urgently, "Don't cause any necessary damage to the ship; it's a rescue, not a slaughter."

R2 gave a reluctant beep, "Alright, be careful, buddy, we'll keep in touch." The comlink died in silence.

Putting back the comlink in his compartment spaces, he started the J-Wing with his computer rod in the cockpit. The J-Wing itself was upside down, magnetically locked on the bottom of a floating advertisement screen in the moon's orbit. The giant machine was cube-sized, with all four sides having a giant holo-screen projecting advisement holo-vids and pictures for passing ships entering and exiting the Moon. The projector in question was somewhat close to the cruiser, which R2 used to hide the ship to get as close as possible to make the distraction happen quickly.

With the ship's engine warmed up, R2 unlocked the landing gears' magnetic locks, and the ship floated down from the projector. Then he turned the ship around and made his way towards the cruiser, which at this point was leaving the moon. If R2 can sigh in binary out of frustration, his vocabulator would sound it. R2 has again and again convinced Luke to put more weapons on the J-Wing. Luke has said that they were trying to defend, not blow up planets, but in R2's case, they wouldn't need to worry about the worlds' well-being if the J-Wing had a mounted turbolaser turret.

Now, R2 is not saying that Luke was having R2 do the impossible. After all, R2 will be trying to get the attention of a cruiser half the size of an Imperial Star Destroyer with self-defense systems and fighter wings complementing it would make it very difficult. But it would be oh so easy on R2 if he would be using the X-Wing instead of this piece of junk. R2 wasn't doubting his and Luke's engineering knowledge since they helped upgrade the ship, he was doubting Earth's smartest engineers on making this ship in the first place. Then again, R2 has pulled off harder jobs than this. Approaching the cruiser, the J-Wing's sensors told him that the cruiser had detected him.

And so it begins.

Karag was just about to pop a bottle of Kalanorian wine when a tremor shook his cabin. Some ornate paintings and war trophies in the quarters fell off the wall. Glasses and other fragile objects got knocked over and splintered into shards. Karag went up from his seat, not long after, klaxons roared in the cruiser's corridors. They were warnings about crews needing to head to their battle stations.

Karag went out of his office to see crew running and making their way to designated positions during an attack, none of them paid attention to him. Karag ran to the bridge, as he did, he saw the bridge's crew were bustling all over. Station officers barking out orders, crews giving out pieces of information while their voices were being drowned by the commotion and the screaming alarms.

"VOS!" Karag yelled over the chaos.

Vos, who was at the tactical station, went to Karag to give out a report, "Sir, thank goodness you're here. We're under attack!"

"By who?" Karag demanded.

Vos shook his head, "I'm not too sure sir, it's just one starship."

Karag's scaly eyebrows flared, "One ship?! All of this for one ship," he gestured to the busy bridge.

Vos slightly gulped, moving his adam's apple, "Maybe you should take a look at it, sir."

Vos with a remote, depressed a button that showed a holographic image of the attacking craft. The front of the craft was arrow-like and it had two short wings. The starship was moving all around the Sharpclaw, fast and really close to the hull of the ship that it was practically hugging the cruiser. The holo-image was also showing the Sharpclaw's point-defense system blasting energy bolts at the craft, but none of them were hitting their intended target.

"What is the meaning of this, Vos?"

"Sir, it happened too quickly," Vos dumbfoundedly said, "Right after Lieutenant Ishtak's shuttle boarded, an unknown craft started to approach our airspace. We attempted to hail it but it didn't respond. It then sent a barrage of missiles to the ship, but we raised the shields in time."

Karag's eyes narrowed, "Why aren't the point-defense batteries doing their jobs?"

Vos shrugged, the situation was becoming out of his control, "Sir, the attacking craft is moving so close to the ship's hull that the batteries can't depress their guns to shoot it down." Vos continued, showing that he was impressed while flabbergasted, "I've never seen such piloting, sir!"

Karag gritted his teeth and jabbed a finger onto Vos's chest, "I don't care if he's the best pilot in the Galaxy," Karag stated. "Send all of our wings," he pointed out to the bridge's window, "and shoot that piece of junk down!"

Vos saluted, "Yes, sir!"

Not too long after the ship's alarms went off, pilots in the hangar rushed into their fighters. Hangar's control center ordered ground crews to make final checks before the ships flew off. One by one, the ships roared alive. Then after the hangar was cleared, the ships flew out of the bay and into space.

"There they go," Shayera said, counting how many fighters there were.

A minute passed when all of the fighters exited out of the hangar, leaving the shuttle alone with the distracted flight crew. Now was the time.

"Shayera," Luke said, "Open the ramp, it's time."

Shayera did so and the shuttle's board ramp opened. Luke's head turned to Saint, who was still sitting in the chair. "Ready?"

Saint Walker stood up from the chair to his full height, "I'm ready as far as I can get."

Luke pulled out his DL-44 from his holster and was going to give it to Saint Walker before the alien held up a hand, "Won't need that," Walker insisted, "Already proficient in my hands"

Luke didn't say anything else, understanding that it was unnecessary to give it to him and re-holstered his blaster. Both of them were on their way to the door that leads to the boarding dock, but Luke stopped when Shayera was getting up from the pilot's seat and followed them. Luke stopped her from exiting the cockpit.

"I need you to stay, Shayera, I thought we already went through this?"

Shayera scowled a bit, "You're gonna need help with this."

Luke sighed, "You're right," he admitted, "I do need help," he stepped closer, "And that help is gonna be in the form of you staying here and guarding the ship, just like we talked about."

Shayera disagreed with a head shaking side to side, "No, you're gonna need help finding your way through the ship, and you haven't fought the Gordanians," she pointed to herself, "I have, Saint Walker can stay here."

Luke looked back at Saint Walker then faced the Thanagarian woman, "Saint Walker already said he can't pilot the shuttle," Luke retorted.

"Then all three of us go together!" She said with an edge in her voice.

"Shayera, what's good about a rescue if we don't have a ship?" He placed a hand on her arm, "I can feel you're worried, but trust me when I say that I can get those captives with them, Saint Walker, and me in one piece. Can you trust me to do that like I trust you, Shayera?"

Shayera's face dropped a little. Tension in her somewhat fell, well, somewhat. She met her eyes with his, "Alright, I'll stay here," Shayera conceded. She then made a fist and pushed it up to the bottom of Luke's face and made a jokingly threatened face. "But if you come back here hurt, I'll kick your ass into next Tuesday."

Luke shakily laughed, "Alright, I'll try to save some of me for you." stepped and waved Saint Walker to follow him, "Come on!" Walker did so and both of the men went out of the cockpit.

Shayera warned out without yelling, "Be careful, Luke!"

Both of them went out of the boarding bay and onto the ramp, they crouched next to hide behind the ramp's hydraulic arms while observing the scene. Alarms still whined out while ground crews were hustling about. None of them paid attention to the shuttles ramp opens nor Luke and Saint hiding.

Looking for an exit, the Jedi saw a corridor entrance in the hangar's side, which was the closest wall to the shuttle. In between them and the entrance were a couple of large storage containers with dozens of busy Gordanian ground crews moving around.

"When I say go," Luke whispered to Saint, "We head towards that one container over there." He gestured to the storage container between them and the exit. "It looks like the bottom has room for us, we slide under it, got it?"

Saint declined his head to show he understood. Luke's eyes followed and scanned the bay for any openings showing themselves, after a moment, none of the ground crew had any eyes on the shuttle and the path to the container. "Go!" Luke quietly ordered.

Both of them dashed the fastest they could while not trying to put enough pressure onto the metal hangar bay floor to make any noise. Luke ran closely behind Saint, just in case if something were to happen and that it would make it easier on Saint if he kept the pace, since Luke could just outrun him. But for Saint's sake, whether it's his species' physiology or his own athleticism, he was pretty fast, at least in human terms.

When they reached a good enough distance, while still running, Saint slid on the ground and into the gap of the container that didn't touch the floor. Luke felt a sense of warning that he was about to get seen, quickly did the same as well a second later, just right before a Gordanian walked past them.

Under the container, Luke heard Saint Walker catching his breath. The noises that the hangar made were somewhat muffled. Crawling to the other end of the container, Luke saw the exit, Saint went beside him, he was about to break it for the exit when Luke stopped him.

"Not yet," Luke silently.

On queue, a group of Gordanians passed by the container's end that Saint and Luke hid under. Saurian-like feet in black material clicked next to the pairs heads as the Gordanians hurried to whatever station they were called to. After the last one passed, Luke scanned the surrounding area, not long after, it was clear.

"Now!"

Both of them slid out of the gap and ran to the exit. In an attempt to hide their tracks, Luke reached out and commanded the blast door that was at the mouth of the exit to start closing. The large black door started to slowly drop from the ceiling and onto the floor, like a slow monster closing its jaw so its throat wouldn't be open.

Like before, Saint slid under first, and then just right before the door was about to reach the point that wouldn't have any more space, Luke dived under the door, next to Saint. The door closed the mouth of the corridor, making a harsh metallic clang m. They were now in the belly of the best.

Thankfully, they weren't patrolling security teams or passing sailors in that section of the corridors. But for how long that will last, Luke doesn't want to find out. Getting up, he took point while Saint was behind. Using his senses, Luke had himself and Saint evaded patrols, security cameras, and crew members through the Sharpclaw's corridors. Either they stopped at the edge of a corner to let a group of Gordanians go ahead of them. Or they hid in gaps of the ships bulkhead that served as comm stations, hiding in the casting shadows.

While hiding in one comm station in the wall while a platoon of sailors passed them, Luke wiped the sweat off his forehead. This wasn't accumulated from all of the running and nervous hiding. It was from the heat of the ship itself. Everytime they passed an air vent, the air actually got hotter. In what Luke can gather, since the Gordanians were a saurian race, it wouldn't be a stretch to say that whatever homeworld or environment they hailed from was tropical. Because of that, it would make sense that the Gordanians would design starships with life support systems that replicated the environment of their natural habitat. Comfortable for them? For sure. Comfortable for him and Saint? Not so much. Luke's clothes were starting to get damp, Saint Walker didn't fare better either, the fabric under his armpit was becoming a darker shade of blade and he was sweating like a Gamorrean.

Waiting a couple of seconds after the group disappeared further into the corridor, Luke and Saint Walker went out of the hiding spot and continued to hurry through the hallway. In all of this time, Luke's been using the Force to track the captive's location. He can feel their fears, their hatred, their hopelessness of the situation they've been forced into. Him and Saint were getting close, he could feel them.

Just when they turned around an intersection of corridors, they met the gaze of a Gordanian security squad that was patrolling that part of the ship by chance. One of the Gordanians in front, possibly the section leader, yelled out, "INTRUDERS!" Then most of them raised their weapons at Luke and Saint.

Before they shot and yelled some more. Before any of them got the chance to alert the rest of the ship. Before Saint could go into a fighting position. Luke, in that instant, got a feeling that he should put up a force wall between the two of them and the Gordanians. A meter away from the two, an invisible wall of protective energy was made and a fraction of a second later, the section of bulkhead behind the Gordanians exploded into a storm of fire and metal. The sailors at the back got the worst of it; they either got torn apart into pieces from fractured metal or burnt to scaly crisps by the blinding firestorm. The rest got blown forward by the concussive force. Luke and Saint however, remained fine due to the raised, unseen shield Luke put up.

Not a second later, the cloud of fiery orange and red was soon sucked in by the hole it came out. The image of an explosion was replaced by the cold image of the black ether. Howling winds followed, screaming like a raging storm, taking whatever wasn't bolted down into the gaping hole that was in the bulkhead.

First, it was pieces of scrap and shrapnel. After that, chunks of armor, and dismembered limbs that were either ragged with holes or burned got sucked in. Finally, all of the sailors got swept up from their feet and got swallowed by the hole. The vacuum continued, refusing to end its suction, demanding more objects to feed the void. Thankfully, where the Gordanians used to stand, an emergency blast door quickly blurred open and closed the hallway, stopping the hole from busting open the ship.

Luke took a relaxed breath and dropped the shield. Saint Walker stood still like a statue, looking at the spot where the Gordanians were, now just seeing the rusty black blast door. "That was…very close," Saint Walker managed to say.

"Yeah," Luke dryly replied, "That was…" He didn't finish his sentence when he noticed something.

What he noticed was the huge fact that the hole rupturing came from outside. There was no way what caused the bulkhead to explode was some sort of failed engineering flaw nor some space debris penetrating the ship's hull. That was an explosion from a plasma bolt. A bolt that specifically came from outside. And Artoo was outside, where he was supposed to be a distraction to the Gordanian, now blowing up the ship.

"Artoo!" Luke did his best not to yell through his comlink, "What's going on outside?"

Artoo sent out a series of infuriated chitters and beeps, the Astromech was a little busy being chased by Gordanian starfighters. Luke may have put too much onto Artoo's plate, but he was only asking to be a distraction, not take on the whole Gordanian navy. "Look, Artoo, just be careful what you are doing. A blast from one of those starfighters almost shot us from the inside of the hull."

Artoo sent out a sarcastic reply in droidspeak, stating how it's not easy being chased by a pack of starfighters and being told not to fire back that much.

"Don't worry Artoo," Luke replied, "We're almost there, just hang on." He turns off the comlink and talks to Saint Walker, "Come on, we better hurry up, I got a feeling this ship isn't going to last long."

Shayera gripped the control yoke in the shuttle. She hasn't done anything since Luke left, she hasn't even moved out of her seat. The only thing she did really was close the boarding ramp to the shuttle so no Gordanians walked in her while she was probably at her most vulnerable. But she wasn't worried about getting captured by the Gordanians. She wasn't worried about her safety, in fact, she wouldn't care if the whole ship went down with her in it. She was worried about Luke and that was the only thing in her mind at that moment.

She thought about how she should have gone with him anyway, to make sure he was okay. She didn't care about the fact that she didn't have her mace, she can make do with her fists. All she wants to do is to get out and actually see that Luke was alright, was that too much to ask? She knows that Luke can handle himself, after all, she had seen the holo-recordings of him freeing the Justice League back on the Thanagarian prison ship, fighting in Hro's ship, and cutting through Gordanians and Sangtee in the bar. However, she shutters the thought of him getting hurt…or worse. She swears, if those reptiles lay a single finger on him, she'll…

Shayera trailed off from her main thoughts when she realized what she was thinking. Why was she being overly-concerned for Luke? Like what she saw and thought before, Luke's a big boy, he can prove he can defend himself. Why was she thinking this way? She remembers that she hasn't been this worried over the well-being of another since when…when…

When she thought John died, when he and her tried to disarm that bomb the Joker planted for that sick, twisted game he made in Vegas. She thought John died to protect her from the blast when the bomb went off. She thought that she was trying to resuscitate John's body in the aftermath. When she thought about it, the chance of telling John that she loved him was taken away from her in an instant. She was afraid to love someone during those times.

Does she love…she didn't want to finish the question, refusing to answer it.

"No," she told herself, telling the Shayera in her that wasn't a possibility, it can't happen! She can't have those strong feelings for someone, not after all that she's done. How could she have feelings for him like that? Luke was just a friend and nothing more.

Luke was just a friend until he told her, "I believe you, Shayera." When she rightfully lost everything for the greater good, when her own friends and the man she loved turned away from her. But Luke didn't, he showed forgiveness and compassion to another from the likes she's never seen before.

Luke was just a friend until he said the words, "I'm not going to do anything before I save you first, Shayera Hol." When she thought that she didn't deserve anything any more, not even her own life. But Luke thought she deserved everything.

Luke was just a friend until her days from being alone, wallowing in her own self-hatred and telling herself that she was worthless ceased away when he would visit her.

Luke was just a friend until he had his hand on her cheek earlier, when warmth went into her, when their skin hadn't connected like that before, when heart started to run rapidly like an animal in her chest trying to crawl out. He wasn't just a friend when he said, "Shayera, I care for you," he wasn't a friend when those same words almost made her melt in his hand that was on her cheek.

No, Luke wasn't a friend, not to her at least, he was something more. Shayera…loves…Luke.

She managed to marshal her thoughts into creating that line in her head. She loves Luke, she cares for him, and that made her more afraid than anything else in that moment. She wasn't afraid of being seen anymore. She wasn't afraid of seeing her people and then casting judgment on her. She wasn't afraid of seeing her former friends and their scornful looks. She wasn't afraid of seeing John again. She wasn't even afraid of dying in the moment if the ship happened to go down.

What she was afraid however, was that she loved Luke Skywalker, the man who helped her overcome those fears.

"I…Love…Luke," She mutters those daunting words out loud, hoping no one in the universe hears her.

Saint Walker watched as a group of Gordanians passed him and Luke Skywalker while the two hid behind a corridor corner. When they couldn't hear the rapid footsteps that echoed throughout the metal hallways anymore, they continued on. After turning corner to corner, Luke stopped them behind a corner at an intersection, concealing them from one hallway that looked like it would lead them to the ship's brig. Pointing out his head slightly, Luke gestured toward the brig's entrance. Walker felt Luke used the Force power the young man talked about earlier. It was still something the Astonian was grasping.

Luke insisted on Walker and him coming out of the corner, "Come one, the security cams are down." He moved out of the corner and into the hallway that led to the brig, Saint Walker followed.

Walker keeps getting surprised every time Luke applies his strange powers. It was one thing when he and Luke somehow 'sensed' each other back at Faz's Bar, but it was another when Skywalker used these alien gifts Saint Walker had never seen before.

It seemed effortlessly that he used that energy blade of his to deflect and even send back blaster bolts back to the Sangtee and Gordanians. The speed that he used was really astounding. The way he moved, jumped, and dodged was like he was a natural-born athlete, even better when Saint Walker came to think about it. And the energy Luke summoned between them and the Gordanains when that bulkhead ruptured was something Saint Walker could never possibly imagine. It just seemed like an indestructible blast door was constructed within a blink of an eye, Saint Walker didn't even see it, but he just somehow felt it.

Luke's gifts were like the arcane stories and fantasies of fairy tales parents used to tell their children. Tales that described old and powerful wizards, warlocks, and mages that can call upon lighting from the sky like if it's some chore, cast terrible illusions and curses onto mortals, and create terrifying beasts that could only exist in one's worst nightmare.

Of course, stories like those were nothing more than that, fairy tales, things that adults never really believed in. Yes, there were parts of the scriptures the recounted prophets and chosen ones with heavenly powers doing what no normal man can do, but that was a holy sort than anything else and originated from a heavenly mandate.

But after seeing Luke Skywalker use his gifts, Walker couldn't help but wonder if those stories were indeed true. Did those fairy tale sorcerers use the Force like Luke or did they use some other mystical energy? Can Luke perform these rituals and incantations described in fairy tales, or is there more to it than just saying specific words and phrases?

Saint Walker wondered if he can perform these mystical feats, if he can use these gifts how Luke was using them. Luke did say that they can channel the Force into them and grant them power, but how can one achieve a level of power and abilities that can be comparable to Luke's playing field? If he can indeed learn to channel the Force, how long will it take to be considered Luke's equal? A year of training? A decade of study? A lifetime of total devotion to learning the strange ways of the Force?

Walker was asking so many questions in his head that they were ricocheting in his mind. So much so that he just realized that him and Like were now in front of the brig. Questions for him and Luke will have to wait.

Luke, being closer to the blast door, gestured to the side. Miraculously, the doors opened, as if they had to obey the command of Luke's powers. The blast door opened, revealing the rectangular threshold to the brig. The brig itself was octagonally-shaped, with one cell door at each side. Dead center was seemingly the control center and two Gordanians manning it.

The guards looked up from their stations and onto the detention centers blast doors with surprise due to it opening prematurely. Surprised then came with alarm as both of them leveled their weapons. Before both of them can depress their trigger or send out the distress alarms, Luke reached out with his right hand and lifted it slightly up. The Gordanians were quickly lifted up from their feet and dropped their weapons. They floated up in the air, like if they were puppets attached to invisible strings. Both of them then collided with one another, face to face and Luke's hold of them stopped, making them drop onto the ground into heaps.

Looking around there were no more guards in the room, however there were four security cameras pointed downward, gazing on the room. Luke pulled out with his other hand and the camera turned off. It looked like Luke willed the cameras to shut off on their own accord. He waved over behind him and the blast doors closed back.

Drawing his attention to one of the doors, Luke makes his way to one of them with Walker behind. He waved a hand to the side and the door they faced slid open. There, they both saw what they were here for.

Twelve females of different races were in the cell when the door opened. Walker recognized that they were Talokites, Korugans, Graxosians; races that somewhat looked like Luke's but with different skin colors, races that the Gordanians liked to take advantage of. Majority of them were in their late adolescence, the oldest looked like a mother while the youngest couldn't be some standard years old. Most of them were scantily clad, no doubt from the Gordanians doing.

Haggard and tired, they were all slouched or sat in the cell's cold floor. When they saw the door opening, sparks of fear entered their eyes, the Korugan mother held her daughter tighter as the girl went further into her mothers arms. But when they saw Walker and Luke, confusion replaced their fear.

Luke held up his hand to show he meant no harm and sounded off with genuine concern and care. "My name is Luke Skywalker," he gestured to Walker, "This is Saint Walker, and we're here to rescue you."

The captives exchanged looks at one another, not sure if this is just some trick or ploy to get them to escape.

"I know that you don't know us," Luke admitted and continued, "But we're here to save you from a terrible fate," he held up his right hand to offer them.

Then, as if a star was birthed before him, Saint Walkers felt the overwhelming sensation of warmth and energy emitted from Luke. This wasn't a physical feeling, but rather one he felt through the Force. Even though Saint Walker knew that this strange gift that Luke helped him discover was something he was still trying to understand, and paled in comparison to Luke's knowledge. But, what he felt from Luke was something he somehow could understand.

It was as if Luke casted a blindly aura of light around him. Though this sort of illumination was made through the Force, not something that could be seen with eyes. He could feel the light encompass all around the captives, like some comforting blanket. He noticed they felt it too, but not in the way Walker did.

Body language changed, the way they looked at him and Luke differed, and color was coming back to them. Whatever horrible things happened to them seemed to wash away from them. Life was coming back to them. They were getting back hope

Hope…that was something that Saint Walker wished he got. Reason why he was in the system to begin with, to find the savior, that beacon of light. Now, looking at Skywalker, the man who brought hope to these people from the energy within him and the compassion he had. Saint Walker couldn't help but wonder….could Luke be the savior?

Saint had the idea develop back on the Moon, but he was still unsure. Why now? Why Luke Skywalker? Could he just be a sign to the savior's eventual coming? If what Luke said about the Force bringing Walker to here from Helious is indeed correct, then there must be the sign he was looking for. Saint Walker, feared though when he might not know the answer. Luke only said that what this Force gave him, Walker must figure it out on his own.

Saint Walker found the answer in Luke Skywalker not too long.

Luke walked to the mother and daughter. When he got close to the daughter, glowed with light and hope in her eyes. She went off from her mother's embrace just a little bit to see Luke. He kneeled to the youngling and placed a careful hand on her, and gave her such a cheerful smile that all worry in the girl disappeared.

Then, Luke said something Saint thought he would never hear another being say, something that indicated to Saint Walker that confirmed the answer he found.

"It's all right little one, all will be well."

Energy fired from a flak battery blew up in a black and orange cloud of superheated gas. The cloud then dissipated all over as the J-Wing went through it. Closely behind were dozens of Gordanian star fighters firing blue energies that whizzed past R2's ship. Surrounding them were cages of flak explosions and energy discharges created by the cruiser's point-defense systems and turrets, trying to play a game of catch R2 with their high-intensity energy beams.

R2 is wishing he had the X-Wing right about now.

The J-Wing did its best to evade, cut, dive, steer off, and dodge the hail of energy bolts trying to make contact with the ship's hull despite its size. The ship was designed in mind to function in both the void in space and atmospheric conditions on planets for rescue operations. Dogfighting in space was not in the resume. The ship was somewhat fast, but the Gordanian fighters were faster. So much so on the latter, that some fighters were so close to the J-Wing, that they could kiss the ship's engines.

R2 is really wishing he had the X-Wing right about now.

The ship had decent shielding and armor, but some of the fire managed to penetrate one or both. The shields were close to buckling. The bolts that managed to penetrate the ship's defenses hadn't not damaged any of the major systems and components, but they were stacking up fast. Inside the cockpit, a thin black layer of smoke was swallowing the inside. Some parts of the ship's console were crackling with electricity or were shut down.

R2 is really really wishing he had the X-Wing right about now.

The ship's threat display was constantly screaming out how the ship was being locked on and targeted. When R2 managed to escape one lock-on by swaying and jerking out of the target vector, not a second later another lock-on closely followed in pursuit. R2 did get chances of destroying some fighters with his own salvos from the J-Wing's cannons. But it seemed that taking several from an entire swarm of fighters wasn't good enough, and the fire from the ship has made it difficult at any regard.

R2 wished he could speak basic with his electric vocabulator, in which he could yell every single curse word known to all organics so he could express it onto Master Luke's face.

The fact that Master Luke said that he wanted to be a distraction with the J-Wing against a cruiser was one thing, but being told not to fire on the ball of a cruiser was another. Master even chastised R2 on one of the rogue bolts that must've penetrated through the cruiser's shielding. It's not R2's fault that their fighters are sloppy shooters. If they want to shoot at each other, R2 will gladly let them…

That last thought sparked an idea throughout R2's processor. An idea that then turned into calculations of specific trajectories, algorithmic patterns, and plans in less than a second. An idea that turned into a plan of maneuvers that has a 33.45 percent chance of success.

33.45 percent chance, that was a set of predictions and calculated numbers that R2 was willing to take.

Currently, J-Wing was flying away from the cruiser while the flock of fighters were right behind, still firing blindly at R2's direction. R2 pulled the ship upward, spinning and swerving side to side, dodging the enemy's bolts. He then flew through the cloud of fighters, unleashing his own energy payloads. Most of the fighters reacted in time, stopping their barrage of fire and turning away from the speeding J-Wing. Four, however, were caught in his hailfire of red energy and blew up in balls of light.

Going straight back to the cruiser, the Gordanian ship's defense system started their target lock-ons and began their salvos again. Blue darts of light that they way toward R2 and past him when he dodged them. It was like trying not to get a single drop of rain land on one's body during a rainstorm. R2 swirled, spun, and danced around the spin, trying not to get hit by the rampaging bolts. Some managed to score hits onto the ship, one hit the left wing of the J-Wing and started a plum of black oily smoke that trailed from the ship.

However, because R2 dodged most of them that were intended for him, the ones that didn't land a hit on the ship went past him and made their killing-energy-way towards the fighters. Fighters did their best to evade the encompassing storm of energy fire, however, they weren't fast enough. So, one by one, fighters blossomed into balls of debris and flames as the energy bolts continued. There were dozens of them before the barrage started, now there were a couple.

Coming closer, the barrage of fire started to become harder and harder to avoid as the cruisers targeting systems were predicting and leading their firing vectors at a easier rate due to R2's
blunt approach. Right before a beam of energy was going to hit the J-Wing's cockpit, R2 dived the ship with such sudden halt of motion, that any organic onboard would have gotten whiplash.

The bolt however went straight toward one of the very few fighters left behind the J-Wing and clipped its wing off. Diving the J-Wing under the cruiser, the barrage mostly halted as there weren't as many turrets under the cruiser. The damaged fighter, with a broken wing, whirled and torrented out of control. Despite its chaotic nature of control, it didn't change its course towards the cruiser.

R2 was a little worried at first, seeing from the trajectory of the fighter, it might crash into the cruiser's dorsal fins. But R2 memory banks corrected himself as he knew the cruiser had shields. Though it was somewhat like ray shields, the shield on the cruiser was some form of electrical field that sparked out and dissipated forms of energy trying to hit the ship. It was a strange form of shielding but R2 knew for better and worse, that shield should protect the cruiser from the fighter that will no doubt crash into it.

It didn't.

The crazed fighter went under the dorsal fin, dead-center at the middle, and collided into the frame. It combusted into a crash of debris and fiery parts that went through the fin. The fighter didn't survive the crash, but unfortunately, the fin didn't as well. The explosion caused the fin to be cut in half. Because of the momentum of the fighter that wasn't interrupted, the end of the fin then spun slowly towards the hull of the cruiser.

Like a Panthac's tooth lodging itself in the soft hide of a grazing herbivore, the broken piece of fin stabbed the main hull of the ship. The fin knifed itself through the hull, then deepened to the point where it caused explosions around the entry point. The ship shook from the impact and just for a second, power stopped. Engines, lights from windows, even the turrets stopped working as the fin must've hit the ship's power source or atleast severed it.

When the power came on, the ship started to tip slowly on its starboard side. Slowly, slowly, and slowly, the ship was tipping while still having the piece of fin lodged into it. Smoke and fires continued to erupt from the collision, firing sparks and debris like blood from a gushing wound.

Finally, the ship was totally on its right side. The ship then started dipping down, slowly making its way towards the Gas giant, Galtos. The ship's engines roared desperately like a dying animal, trying to escape the planet's firm gravitational hold on it. It reminded R2 of seeing a Sarlacc pit wrapping its tendrils on one of Jabba the Hutt's cronies back on Tatooine. It was a struggle that will only have one outcome, and it's no upward

From the looks of it, the impact must've lost vital controls and systems that could've been damaged and severed from the impact. But thankfully, that wasn't the R2 problem.

Then R2 processed a file from one of his memory banks. That ship, that cruiser that he made go into losing its orbit, that will no doubt be crushed into the gas giant's surface, still has Master Luke onboard. He wasn't supposed to be THIS good at distracting, at least not like this.

R2 let out a binary whine that could be described as an "Uh oh," realizing that Master Luke is gonna be really, really be mad.

Notes

(mateocugnoo00) *Speaks in Sidious voice* Young Fool, only now at the end do you understand. But Lucky for you, this chapter is bringing it up!

(Guest) You talking about the one episode where they go to apokolips to rescue their friend with the Flash? Thought about Luke coming with them when I reached there, can see Luke budding heads with Barda since she kind of has a blunt warrior mentality.

(sharkyawsomeness5) Eh, both? It's kinda hard to get into Legends Luke when there's so much material for him. I kinda placed this Luke at time of Dark Empire and his appearance in the Mandolorian and the Book of Boba Fett. So it's kinda everything really if that answers your question.

(Mugii) I'm gonna be honest man, that wasn't my proudest moment of writing, it's honestly a cheap way to get Luke captured and I knew that. Im not trying to downplay Luke's abilities; this will not be one of those fanfictions where Force-Senstives are nerfed down to the point where it's criminal like other crossovers seem to do, it was just a poor attempt at writing, I needed Luke to go from one place to another so he can meet the League, did he need to get captured? No, but i thought it feel appropriate, at least to me other than him like going to that prison ship and rescuing the league on his X-Wing, that idea I had but didn't feel it was right.