Aurora's POV

The ship's engines groaned as we landed on Ord Mantell, the familiar sights and sounds of the bustling port filtering through the fog of my pain. Every bump during the descent sent sharp stabs through my side, each one dragging a groan from my lips despite my best efforts to stay silent.

"Take it easy," Alex murmured, his voice soft yet strained. He'd been glued to my side since the fall, his hands hovering near me as though his sheer presence could keep me from breaking further.

I gritted my teeth, nodding. "I'm fine," I lied.

"You're the worst liar," he muttered, adjusting the makeshift sling he'd rigged around me to help with the strain of walking. "We'll get you to Tech as soon as we're docked."

The ramp lowered with a hiss, and the warm, humid air of Ord Mantell greeted us. Hunter, ever the vigilant leader, was already coordinating with the port staff, ensuring our landing remained under the radar. Omega ran ahead, chattering to Wrecker about what snacks she planned to grab from Cid's cantina.

I tried to take a step down the ramp and nearly crumpled, my legs trembling like a newborn foal's. Alex caught me before I could fall, his arms steady as he supported my weight.

"See? Fine," I rasped, though my vision blurred from the effort.

"You're going to drive me insane," he muttered, scooping me up in one smooth motion. I barely had the energy to protest.

The medbay at Cid's cantina was a cramped, dimly lit room that smelled faintly of antiseptic and stale caf. Tech worked efficiently; his hands gloved as he examined the wound on my side. Despite his meticulous care, every touch felt like fire, and I clenched my fists to keep from crying out.

"The wound is healing, but the internal damage will take time," Tech announced, his tone clinical. "It's no surprise you're struggling to walk; the injury likely disrupted the nerve pathways in the area. This is common with injuries of this nature, though it is not permanent."

"Define 'not permanent,'" I gritted out, wincing as he applied a cooling salve.

"Several weeks, perhaps longer. You will require physical therapy and consistent rest," Tech replied without missing a beat. "And no strenuous activity."

Physical therapy.

Yay.

The last time I had physical therapy was after Wasskah…back then, I had Caleb around to make it fun and interesting. Now, I don't know where Caleb is…or if he even is alive…if he survived Order 66.

I scoffed, leaning back against the medbay cot. "Strenuous activity is my life."

"Then you'll need a new one," Alex cut in, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorway. His gaze was sharp, but the worry in his eyes softened the blow of his words. "You're not pushing through this, Ro. Not this time."

I glared at him, though the effort felt hollow. The truth was, I didn't know how to exist like this—weak, dependent, sidelined. It made my skin crawl.

Days blurred into nights as I adjusted to the agonizingly slow pace of recovery. My legs felt like lead weights whenever I tried to stand, and even the smallest movement sent sharp, radiating pain through my side. The others took turns helping me, though Alex was rarely far from my side.

The artifact sat on the holo-table in the cantina, its faint glow casting eerie shadows across the room. Tech and Echo spent hours studying it, their muttered discussions filled with technical jargon that made my head spin.

"It's tied to the Force," Tech explained one evening as we all gathered around. "The energy readings suggest it reacts to individuals with a strong connection. Aurora's interaction confirmed this."

"What kind of connection?" Hunter asked, his arms crossed.

Tech adjusted his goggles. "Unclear. The artifact appears to resonate with the user's intent, though the specific function remains a mystery."

"Great," I muttered, leaning heavily against the table. "So, it's a glowing paperweight that might blow up in our faces."

"Not necessarily," Echo interjected. "Artifacts like this often have a purpose—something tied to their creation. If we can uncover its origin, we might understand how to use it."

I frowned; the faint pull I'd felt toward the artifact resurfacing. "It showed me something," I admitted quietly. "When I touched it in the ruins… I saw visions. Cities, battles, Force users channeling power. It felt familiar, but I couldn't make sense of it."

The room fell silent, the weight of my words settling over the group. Finally, Hunter spoke, his tone measured. "Do you think it's dangerous?"

"I think it's dangerous not to understand it," I replied.

As the days dragged on, my frustration with my recovery grew. Simple tasks like standing or walking required Alex's support, and the humiliation of it gnawed at me. One evening, after another failed attempt to walk unaided, I retreated to my quarters, desperate for a distraction.

That's when the idea struck me. Korkie.

He'd been training with Yoda on Dagobah for months, his connection to the Force growing under the Jedi Master's guidance. If anyone might have insight into the artifact, it was him.

I activated the encrypted commlink, leaning heavily against the desk as I waited for the connection to stabilize. The grainy image of my brother flickered to life, his face lighting up when he saw me.

"Aurora! It's good to see you," he said, his voice warm.

"You too," I replied, managing a faint smile. "How's Dagobah treating you?"

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Wet, muddy, and full of surprises. Master Yoda's methods are… unconventional, but effective."

"Good to hear," I said, my tone softening. "Listen, I need your help."

His brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

I hesitated, glancing at the artifact on the holo-table behind me. "We found something. An artifact tied to the Force. I think it's important, but we don't know what it does or where it came from."

Korkie's expression grew serious. "Do you have any details? Symbols, inscriptions?"

I described the artifact as best I could, including the visions I'd seen. Korkie listened intently, his gaze thoughtful.

"It doesn't sound familiar, but…" He paused, rubbing his chin. "Master Yoda once mentioned an ancient repository of knowledge—an archive hidden long before the Clone Wars. It was said to contain information on artifacts like this, but its location was lost to time."

"Do you think Yoda would know more?" I asked.

Korkie hesitated. "Maybe. But he's… cryptic. I'll ask, but don't get your hopes up."

"Thanks, Korkie," I said, relief flooding through me. "And be careful, okay?"

"You too," he replied, his smile returning. "Try not to get into too much trouble."

As the commlink disconnected, I felt a flicker of hope amid the exhaustion and pain. We didn't have answers yet, but we had a lead—a thread to pull. And for the first time since the ruins, I felt like I was regaining some semblance of control.

I glanced at the artifact, its glow casting long shadows across the room. Whatever secrets it held; I was determined to uncover them. Even if it meant leaning on others—on Alex, Korkie, and the rest of the crew—I wouldn't stop until I understood its purpose.

1 Week Later

The cantina buzzed with its usual chaos—a constant rhythm of clinking glasses, laughter, and Cid's gruff voice cutting through the noise. For the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope. The dull ache in my side remained, a constant reminder of my fall, but I could finally feel strength returning to my legs.

Alex had left with the rest of the Bad Batch earlier, heading into the bustling Ord Mantell market to stock up on supplies. That left me alone in the cantina with Cid and Phee, who sat at a table discussing their next "venture" over a bottle of Corellian ale.

I was nursing a cup of caf when Cid's voice barked across the room. "Blondie! You gonna sit there sulking all day, or are you gonna get off your ass and do something?"

I looked up, frowning. "I'm recovering, Cid. Doctor's orders."

"Doctor's orders, my ass," Cid shot back, her sharp-toothed grin showing. "You've been sitting around for a week now. Time to see what those legs of yours can actually do."

"She has a point," Phee chimed in, her tone annoyingly smug. "You can't let yourself rot away just because of a little setback. Where's that Mandalorian grit I keep hearing about?"

I glared at them, the frustration bubbling beneath my skin. "You think I don't want to get up? You think I'm just being lazy?"

"No," Cid said, her voice dropping to a rare note of seriousness. "I think you're scared. Scared you'll fall. Scared it'll hurt. But sitting there isn't gonna change that."

Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit. She wasn't wrong. Every time I thought about standing, the memory of collapsing on the ramp, of Alex catching me, played in my mind like a cruel holo-reel. But I was tired of feeling helpless. Tired of being a burden.

I pushed my cup aside and took a deep breath. "Fine. Let's see if you're right."

Phee and Cid exchanged a glance before getting up to stand nearby, arms crossed like two stern taskmasters. I gritted my teeth and placed my hands on the edge of the table, steadying myself as I rose to my feet. The sharp pull in my side made me wince, but I ignored it.

"Easy does it," Phee said, though there was a hint of encouragement in her voice.

I stood still for a moment, my legs trembling beneath me. The room seemed to tilt slightly, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears. But I didn't fall.

"Good," Cid said, her voice gruff but approving. "Now move."

I shot her a glare but took a tentative step forward. My foot felt heavy, as if it belonged to someone else, but it moved. Then the other. Each step was awkward and unsteady, but I kept going, ignoring the sweat beading on my forehead and the burning in my side.

"That's it!" Phee said, clapping her hands once. "See? Not so hard."

"Shut up," I muttered, focusing on the next step. And the next.

By the time I reached the other side of the room, my legs felt like jelly, and every breath was a fight against the pain. But I'd done it. I turned slowly to face Cid and Phee, a triumphant grin spreading across my face.

"Told you she had it in her," Cid said, pouring herself another drink as if this were just another ordinary day.

Phee smirked. "Not bad, Princess. Now let's see you do it again."

I groaned but didn't argue. This was progress, and I wasn't about to let it slip away.

The backroom was quiet except for the low hum of the cantina beyond. I leaned against the table, staring at the far wall as I stretched my legs out. My muscles still ached from my earlier attempts to walk, but the sense of progress was enough to keep me going. I'd managed a few more steps today, each one slightly steadier than the last.

"Kryze!" Cid's voice rang out from the main room, sharp and commanding. "Get out here for a second!"

I sighed, wiping the sweat from my brow. "What now?" I muttered under my breath. With a firm grip on the edge of the table, I pushed myself upright. My side protested immediately, sending a dull, burning pain radiating across my ribs, but I ignored it.

Carefully, I took a step toward the door, then another. My legs wobbled, but they held, and I bit back a grin. This wasn't the first time Cid had called me out, but she never came to the backroom to check if I was coming, which meant she expected me to make it there on my own.

"Move it, Princess!" Cid barked again, her tone as charming as ever. "I don't have all day!"

I rolled my eyes but kept going. Each step felt like an eternity, but the closer I got to the doorway, the easier it became to ignore the discomfort. When I finally reached the cantina's main room, I leaned lightly against the doorframe, catching my breath.

"What do you—" My words died in my throat when I saw Alex standing near the bar, a crate of supplies in his arms. Hunter and Wrecker were beside him, laughing about something, while Omega darted around their legs, holding a bag of snacks. Alex hadn't noticed me yet, too preoccupied with setting the crate down.

Cid, standing behind the bar, noticed immediately. "Well, well," she said, her voice carrying across the room. "Looks like someone's finally decided to join us."

Alex turned at her words, his brow furrowed in confusion until his eyes landed on me. He froze, his expression shifting from curiosity to something softer surprise mixed with quiet pride. "Ro?"

I pushed off the doorway, taking a shaky step toward him. My legs still trembled, but the look on his face spurred me on. Another step. Then another. The distance between us shrank, and by the time I was only a few feet away, his mouth had curved into a slow, genuine smile.

"You're walking," he said, his voice low and steady, but there was an unmistakable warmth in it.

"Don't make a big deal out of it," I replied, though a small smirk tugged at my lips. "I've been practicing."

He closed the remaining distance between us, his hands hovering near me like he wasn't sure if he should help. "I didn't think you'd be up this soon," he said. "You've been—"

"Stubborn?" I cut in, arching a brow.

"Determined," he corrected, though his grin gave away his amusement. "But yeah, stubborn works too."

I stopped in front of him, crossing my arms despite the ache it sent through my side. "Told you I'd be fine."

His smile softened, and he reached out, resting a hand lightly on my arm. "You always are."

Before I could respond, Wrecker let out a loud whoop. "Look at you, Princess! Back on your feet already!"

"Don't call me that," I muttered, shooting him a glare. "And it's not like I ran a marathon."

"Doesn't matter," Cid cut in, pouring herself a drink behind the bar. "You're moving, and that's what counts. Now, stop standing there like a statue and sit down before you keel over."

I huffed but allowed Alex to guide me to a stool near the bar. "Happy now?" I asked, glancing between him and Cid.

"Ecstatic," Cid replied dryly, lifting her glass in mock celebration.

Alex leaned on the bar beside me, his expression still carrying that faint trace of surprise. "Seriously, Ro. You're doing good. Better than I thought."

"Is that your way of saying you didn't think I'd make it this far?" I teased, arching a brow.

"Not what I meant," he said quickly, his hands raised in mock defense. "I'm just saying… I'm impressed."

For a moment, I let the words settle. He wasn't gushing or overreacting—just a simple acknowledgment. And somehow, that made it mean more.

"Thanks," I said quietly, glancing down at my hands. "But don't get used to me sitting around. I'm not planning to stay sidelined for long."

Alex chuckled, shaking his head. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Later that evening, after the cantina had quieted down, the commlink buzzed to life. I hurried to answer it, my legs still shaky but stronger than they'd been in days. Korkie's face appeared on the screen, his expression brightening when he saw me.

"You're up!" he exclaimed. "That's a relief."

"Working on it," I said, gesturing toward my side. "How's Dagobah?"

"Still muddy," he said with a grin. "But I talked to Master Yoda. He had some… interesting things to say about your artifact."

My breath caught. "What did he say?"

Korkie leaned closer, his tone dropping to a more serious note. "He called it a 'Key of Wisdom.' According to him, it's an ancient device meant to unlock knowledge—something hidden deep within the galaxy. But he also warned that it's a double-edged sword. The knowledge it reveals could be dangerous in the wrong hands."

"Does he know where it came from?" I asked, my mind racing.

"He mentioned a lost repository—something called the 'Sanctum of Whispers.' It's said to hold records of ancient Force-users and their artifacts. But its location has been lost for centuries."

"Did he give you anything to go on?" I asked with a frown.

Korkie nodded. "Barely. He said the Sanctum is somewhere in the Outer Rim, hidden on a planet shrouded in storms. He didn't know more than that."

I let out a sigh, the weight of the revelation settling over me, The Outer Rim was vast and dangerous, and a storm-shrouded planet wasn't much to go on. But it was a lead.

"Thank you," I said, my voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling inside me. "This helps. More than you know."

"Just… be careful," He said, his expression softening. "And call me if you need anything."

"Always," I replied, ending the call.

The commlink flickered off, leaving the room in a heavy silence. Korkie's cryptic words played on repeat in my head: a "Key of Wisdom," a storm-shrouded planet, and the Sanctum of Whispers. It sounded like something out of a myth, but the unease in his voice made it clear this wasn't just a story. Whatever we'd stumbled upon with the artifact, it was bigger than all of us.

I sat back in my chair, letting out a slow breath. My side still ached, and my legs felt like jelly from the earlier attempts at walking. The soft, pulsing glow of the artifact spilled into the room from the cantina, casting ominous shadows on the walls. I stared at the light, its steady rhythm mirroring the growing tension in my chest.

"What's the verdict, Kryze?" Cid's voice rang out from the cantina. Her tone was sharp and impatient. "Did your brother-in-hiding crack the code, or are we still flying blind?"

I pushed myself to my feet, biting back a grimace as pain flared through my side. "He gave me something," I muttered, heading toward the main room. "But it's not much."

When I stepped out, the usual chaos of the cantina greeted me. Wrecker was snacking on something unidentifiable while Omega leaned over Tech's shoulder, peppering him with questions as he worked on his datapad. Shock and Echo stood near the bar, deep in conversation, while Hunter stood off to the side, his sharp eyes scanning the room like he always expected trouble.

Alex was seated at the bar, his back to me, one foot tapping rhythmically against the floor. He turned as I entered, his gaze immediately locking onto mine. "What did Korkie say?"

I walked toward the table where the artifact sat, leaning heavily on the edge for support. "He thinks it's connected to something called the Sanctum of Whispers. Some ancient repository of knowledge hidden on a storm-covered planet in the Outer Rim. Sound familiar to anyone?"

The room fell quiet for a beat. Then Phee let out a low whistle, crossing her arms as she leaned against the bar. "Sanctum of Whispers, huh? Sounds like a treasure hunter's dream—or a nightmare."

"Treasure hunters," Tech muttered, his eyes glued to his datapad. "Always reducing historical significance to monetary value."

"Hey, someone's gotta keep it practical," Phee shot back with a grin. "And I'm guessing this 'repository' isn't exactly easy to find?"

"It's not," I confirmed. "Korkie said the storms make it almost impossible to locate, and he doesn't have access to archives that might narrow it down."

"Figures," Cid muttered, pouring herself a drink. "Another wild goose chase. At least take it far enough away that I don't have to clean up the mess when it blows up."

Omega frowned, stepping closer to the artifact. "We can't just leave it. What if it's important? What if it could help people?"

"Or destroy them," Shock interjected, his voice flat as his eyes stayed fixed on the glowing sphere. "Artifacts tied to the Force rarely come without a price."

Echo nodded. "He's right. We've seen what the wrong hands can do with ancient tech and Force artifacts. This thing's dangerous just sitting here."

"It's a liability," Cid added, her tone biting. "And liabilities in my bar are bad for business."

"Do you ever think about anything besides your bar?" Alex muttered, shooting her a glare.

"Not when the alternative is losing it," Cid snapped back. "I didn't survive this long by being sentimental, Vizsla."

"Enough," Hunter said, his calm but commanding tone cutting through the chatter. He stepped closer to the artifact, his sharp eyes scanning it before turning to me. "What's the plan, Aurora?"

"We find this Sanctum," I said firmly. "And we take the artifact there."

"And how exactly do we do that?" Alex asked, crossing his arms. "We've got a storm-covered planet in the Outer Rim and no coordinates. That's not exactly actionable intel."

"I'm working on it," Tech said, adjusting his goggles. "There are several storm systems in the Outer Rim that match the criteria. I'll start cross-referencing historical records and environmental data to narrow it down."

"Cross-referencing environmental data?" Phee teased, shaking her head. "You really know how to keep things exciting, don't you?"

Tech shot her a glare. "Some of us prefer thorough research to unnecessary risk."

"Yeah, well, research doesn't mean much if you don't survive to use it," Phee countered, her grin widening.

"Stop bickering," I snapped, drawing everyone's attention. My legs trembled slightly as I straightened, but I didn't let it show. "We don't have time for this. Tech, narrow it down. Hunter, start planning the route. Alex, you're with me."

Alex frowned, stepping closer. "With you? For what?"

I glanced toward the artifact, its glow casting strange patterns on the walls. "We need to figure out what this thing wants."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Echo asked, his tone skeptical.

"Korkie said the Sanctum is a repository of knowledge," I said. "If this artifact is tied to it, maybe it's trying to guide us. But we won't know unless we start looking."

"Looking where?" Wrecker asked, his mouth half-full of whatever snack he'd been devouring.

"That's what we're going to figure out," I replied, my gaze flicking to Hunter. "How soon can we move?"

Hunter folded his arms, his expression thoughtful. "If Tech can narrow down the locations, we could leave by tomorrow. But we're not rushing into this blind. If it's as dangerous as Korkie says, we need to be prepared."

"And what about her?" Shock asked, nodding toward me. "She's not exactly field-ready."

"I'm fine," I said, though the ache in my side begged to differ.

Alex stepped closer, his expression darkening. "No, you're not. You can barely walk, Ro. You're not going on this mission."

I met his glare with one of my own. "Try and stop me."

The tension in the room was palpable, but before Alex could respond, Phee let out a loud laugh. "You two are exhausting. Look, Princess, if you're dead set on playing hero, at least make sure you don't get yourself killed. Again."

"Thanks for the advice," I said dryly. "I'll keep it in mind."

Cid snorted, raising her glass. "I'll bet fifty credits she ends up in the medbay again before this is over."

"Cid!" Omega exclaimed, her wide eyes darting between us. "That's not funny!"

"It's not a joke, kid," Cid replied. "It's reality. This group attracts trouble like a Hutt attracts flies."

"I prefer to think of it as destiny," Phee quipped, earning a groan from Echo.

Hunter clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Enough. Tech, get us the data. Wrecker, start prepping the ship. The rest of you, get some rest. We leave at dawn."

As the group dispersed, Alex lingered beside me, his expression still tight with frustration. "You shouldn't be doing this."

"I have to," I said softly. "You know that."

He didn't respond, but the worry in his eyes spoke volumes.

I turned my gaze back to the artifact, its faint glow pulsing steadily. Whatever lay ahead, one thing was certain: this wasn't going to be easy.