10 DAYS PRIOR…

One day without trouble. That's all Satine wanted. Just one, singular day without something going drastically wrong. It's all she's ever wanted for the past four months, but now she realized, it was merely wishful thinking. Unrealistic and delusional.

Now they were fleeing for their dear, sorry lives from yet another money-hungry batch of bounty hunters. Satine couldn't tell if they were the same ones as before or newcomers, but she'd long given up trying to discern who was who. They'd blurred together and become one massive blob of predators in her mind.

Leaning back against her seat, her white-knuckled hands gripping the taut seatbelt, she almost laughed—a cold, wry bark that would've made even herself cringe. Only moments ago, they'd been relaxed, at ease.

Barefooted, Satine had been picking berries, observing in some amusement as her Jedi protectors meditated or practiced some unique Jedi ritual. Obi-Wan seemed particularly restless lately, and Qui-Gon wasn't having it. Their passive-aggressive banter had proven oddly entertaining. It had been peaceful, quiet. Too quiet, apparently. They had barely gotten into the ship before a blaster bolt nicked Qui-Gon in the calf.

So here she sat in the seat behind the cockpit, watching as the Jedi duo furiously worked together in seamless harmony to escape. She looked around, wondering if she could be of any help, but they seemed to be handling it just fi—

BANG!

A thunderous boom sent the shuttle reeling to the side. Satine's head whipped forward, her chin slamming into her chest. The seatbelt dug into her, and her eyes popped wide open. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan quickly righted it, but now frigid gusts of wind howled from behind them. There was a gaping hole in the hull. Loose wires sparked violently, metal screeched against metal, and the acrid smell of smoke, leaking fuel, and flames filled her nostrils.

Alarms blared, flashing red lights over the cockpit, as the shuttle shook, vibrating violently. Then the front of the shuttle started to dip down. Satine could see the tops of the mountains again. Her bum lifted from the seat, and she saw Obi-Wan gripping the panel as his feet started to fly up from under him. Qui-Gon Force-pushed him into his seat and they both buckled in. They weren't doing anything more to stop their descent. The crash was inevitable. This day was going a lot worse than average. Satine swallowed nervously.

"Brace yourselves!" Qui-Gon yelled over the roaring racket. She clutched the seat's armrests, leaning her head against it again, nostrils flaring as she forced deep breaths into her lungs. The air was thin, making the task very difficult.

They were going down.

The world tilted on its axis as they plummeted. Satine felt her stomach rise into her throat. The only thing keeping her seated was the strip of leather lacerating her shoulders. Such a pitiful excuse for a seatbelt, she thought. Then: Please don't snap, please don't snap, please don't snap.

The ground was a lot closer than she thought it would be. And they were dangerously perpendicular to it. How fast were they falling? Surely they weren't going to survive this. There was no way. No possible, logical way. But then again, she'd seen the Jedi do things she wouldn't have dared dream of. Maybe they would find a way to get them out of this. Please hurry, she pleaded silently. She had people who needed her. Mandalore needed their Duchess. She couldn't die now. They'd made it all this way…they couldn't die this way.

But it seemed physics had different ideas. The ground was getting uncannily close.

Panting heavily, she watched hopefully as Obi-Wan looked to Qui-Gon, flashing him a questioning glance. He looked slightly panicked. A Jedi. Panicked. Not exactly a comforting sight. But then Qui-Gon nodded to him, smiling tightly. Obi-Wan swallowed and nodded in silent understanding.

The Jedi closed their eyes and outstretched their arms. A familiar energy buzzed between them and a muffled silence overcame Satine's senses. The alarms, sparks, and rattling were still there, but it was as if they sounded miles away. Satine vaguely felt their descent slow ever so slightly, but they were still falling at a rapid pace. The mountain range crept closer and closer. Satine squeezed her eyes closed. She couldn't breathe. It was too late for the Force. It had to be. Two Jedi alone weren't strong enough to stop their inevitable doom.

And she was right.

Partially.

Obi-Wan's eyes flew open and his hands jerked to the side, focusing on something new. Something Qui-Gon hadn't noticed. Qui-Gon faltered slightly and frowned, now bearing the entire weight of the shuttle. "Obi-Wan!" he bellowed. "What are you doing?" "Trust me, Master!" Obi-Wan shouted, voice strained. "There's something…something—"

A heavy object suddenly slammed against the side of the ship, sending them reeling. "There he is!" Obi-Wan laughed. Satine glimpsed a mass of scaled wings, claws, and jaws before the shuttle spun at a dizzying speed. Her stomach churned, and her throat burned with bile, but she held it back. Then she saw the ocean—a vast, threatening expanse. She was screaming now, unable to maintain her dignity any longer. "Hold on!" Obi-Wan shouted, grinning. Satine's breath hiccuped, caught in her throat. Wind rushed past as the cockpit was ripped open by massive claws. She looked up to see the beast peering down at them—its bulging black eyes, fangs dripping with odd green saliva, and wings stretching farther than the length of the shuttle. Obi-Wan smiled, and Qui-Gon clapped him on the back. They were insane.

Satine's eyes widened as a slimy, acidic tendril wrapped around her waist, burning through the feeble seatbelt. She was yanked violently from her seat. Her scream was swallowed by the roar of the wind as the shuttle plummeted into the sea. The last thing she saw before everything went dark was the shuttle crashing into the water, an explosion of fire and debris painting the sky.