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The afternoon sun beat down on the bustling streets of Correlia as Harry stumbled, leaning heavily against the side of the wrecked speeder. His breathing was labored, and his head spun with disorienting waves of dizziness. The day had already proven more chaotic than he could handle, and now, standing amidst the remnants of his ill-fated escape attempt, he felt more like a stranded fugitive than ever.

"You look like you've had better days," a familiar voice drawled behind him.

Harry spun on his heel, albeit clumsily, to find Ovan, the mechanic and dockworker he'd run into earlier when he'd first landed on the planet. Ovan stood there, arms crossed, his face a blend of concern and wry amusement. The man's clothes bore the stains of grease and soot, and his broad frame radiated a rough-and-tumble resilience.

Ovan's eyes flicked to the speeder, then back to Harry. "I've seen a lot of things since I started working at the factory but I'll be honest … I never saw someone jumping off a speeder the way you did. Are you alright? Do you need help?"

Harry straightened up, trying to project confidence he didn't feel. "I'll manage. Thanks."

"Uh-huh." Ovan's expression didn't change. Instead, he stepped closer, studying Harry's pale face and the way his knees seemed ready to buckle. "You sure? Because it looks to me like you're about to keel over."

Harry shook his head and tried to wave him off. "I'm fine."

But as he turned and attempted to take a step, the world tilted violently. His legs gave way, and he would have hit the ground if not for Ovan's quick reflexes. The mechanic caught him under the arms, steadying him before he could collapse entirely.

"Yeah, sure looks like you fine," Ovan muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're practically the picture of health."

Harry struggled against the grip, but his strength was sapped. "You don't need to get involved," he rasped. "I'll … figure it out."

Ovan's expression hardened, though not unkindly. "Listen, kid. I'm not about to let you stumble off into the streets looking like you've been through a Sarlacc pit. You're in no shape to argue."

Harry shook his head weakly. "It's not safe. You have a wife right? I don't want to endanger you or her."

Ovan snorted. "Judging by your condition, I'm assuming you had a run in with a cartel. Well, the cartels are always after someone. Besides, you think they care about nobodies like me? My place is probably the last place they'll look for you. Now, stop arguing. You're coming with me."

"I'll …" Harry paused to try to mask a grimace of pain before nodding slowly, "I'll only stay until I can stand," Harry relented finally, too exhausted to fight further. "Then I'll be out of your way."

"Sure, sure. Let's just worry about getting you off the streets, then we can get you patched up, and then you can consider heading out."

They started walking but very quickly it became obvious that Ovan was practically carrying Harry, as he navigated through the maze-like streets with practiced ease. The scent of fried street food and engine exhaust mingled in the air, and the chatter of the crowds seemed distant and muffled to Harry, who focused solely on putting one foot in front of the other and not passing out.

Eventually, they arrived at a towering apartment complex that looked as though it had seen better decades. The exterior was a patchwork of metal plates and exposed wiring, but it was sturdy. Ovan punched in a code at the entrance, and the door slid open with a faint hiss.

Inside, the building was a mix of utilitarian functionality and homely touches. Ovan led Harry into an old but well-kept lift, and they ascended to one of the upper floors. When the lift doors opened, they stepped into a narrow hallway lined with mismatched doors. Ovan guided Harry to one marked with peeling paint and after swiping a card on a reader, pushed it open.

"Jaina?" Ovan called as they entered the small but cozy suite.

A woman appeared from the adjoining kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She was petite but exuded a sharp, commanding presence that made Harry instantly wary. Her dark hair was tied back, and her piercing eyes locked onto Harry, assessing him in an instant.

"What happened?" she asked, her tone brisk as her gaze flicked to Ovan.

"Picked up a stray," Ovan said lightly, though there was an undercurrent of concern in his voice. "Met him earlier at the docks but looks like he's been through hell since then."

Jaina raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Instead, she stepped forward and helped guide Harry to a worn but comfortable couch. Once he was seated, she disappeared briefly and returned with a glass of water and a plate of food.

"Eat," she instructed, placing the plate in front of him.

Harry hesitated. "I don't want to be a burden—"

"You're already here," Jaina cut him off, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Might as well at least try to put an honest effort into your recovery while you're here."

Ovan chuckled as he settled into a chair nearby. "Told you on the walk that she wouldn't take no for an answer."

Harry offered a weak smile and finally relented, picking at the food. The first bite was a revelation; he hadn't realized how hungry he was. Jaina watched him for a moment, then turned her attention to Ovan.

"What's the story?" she asked.

"Didn't get the full details," Ovan admitted. "But I'd bet credits to crumbs he ran into trouble with one of the cartels."

Jaina frowned, her gaze shifting back to Harry. "Is that true?"

Harry swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. "It's a long story, but ya something like that," he admitted. "I … I'll leave as soon as I can. I don't want to put you in danger."

Jaina exchanged a look with Ovan, then sighed. "You're not going anywhere until you can walk without looking like you'll fall over. And if the cartels do come, we'll deal with it. They're not as scary as they like to think."

Harry blinked at her calm confidence. "Why are you doing this? You don't even know me."

Ovan shrugged. "We've all been in tight spots before. Sometimes you just need someone to give you a hand."

"And," Jaina added with a small smile, "Ovan has a habit of looking for excitement. You're not the first stray he's brought home, though … you might be the most banged up."

For the first time in what felt like ages, Harry felt a flicker of warmth. He didn't fully trust them—how could he, given everything he'd been through? But for now, he allowed himself to relax, just a little.

After finishing his meal, Harry leaned back on the couch, his mind racing. He turned to Ovan and Jaina, his expression resolute. "Thank you for everything, but you two should leave. It's too dangerous for you to stay here with me."

Ovan crossed his arms, his face set in a firm scowl. "Kid, you're in no shape to be making demands, and you're definitely not kicking us out of our own home. What you need is rest."

Harry shook his head. "I don't know if I'll be able to sleep with everything going on. Too much is at stake."

Ovan raised his eyebrow for several seconds as he studied him before letting his expression soften, and he gestured toward the kitchen. "I can make you a warm drink. Might help you relax a bit."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Ovan raised a hand, cutting him off. "Just stay put. You're not going anywhere tonight."

With that, Ovan disappeared into the kitchen. Harry sighed and leaned back against the cushions. The tension in his body was overwhelming, and his eyelids felt heavier with each passing moment. By the time Ovan returned with a steaming mug, Harry was already fast asleep. Ovan chuckled softly and placed the drink on a nearby table.

"Looks like you didn't need it after all," Ovan muttered as he turned to head to bed.

Jaina was waiting for him in their room, perched on the edge of the bed. She glanced up as Ovan entered, and he let out a tired sigh, sitting down beside her.

"That boy out there looks like he got run over by a Corellian sand panther," Ovan said, shaking his head. "Makes my life look downright boring in comparison."

Jaina reached over and patted his shoulder, a small smile playing on her lips. "Don't worry about a boring life, Ovan. We're going to be parents soon. That'll be more excitement than you'll know what to do with."

Ovan's expression tempered, and he placed a hand on hers. "Yeah, you're probably right. Guess I should enjoy what we have right now while it lasts."

The two settled into bed, their thoughts lingering on the mysterious boy sleeping in the next room.

That night, Harry found himself in a dream unlike any he had ever experienced.

When he had first opened his eyes, he knew instantly that he was in a dream and while at first he was confused as to where he was, he eventually recognized it from holopictures he had seen in the Jedi Archives, while he had been looking through historical records that might relate to magic. He stood in the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine, but it wasn't the ruins he'd seen in the holopictures. The building was whole, its walls unmarred by time, and the air hummed with an energy that felt both comforting and unsettling.

He took a few tentative steps, his gaze darting around the pristine halls. Before he could take in more of his surroundings, a sharp pain shot through his body. Harry collapsed to his knees, clutching his sides as waves of agony washed over him. His vision blurred, and he barely registered the sound of approaching footsteps.

A figure knelt beside him, their voice calm and steady. "You've been poisoned. It looks like you're going to die."

Harry squinted through the haze of pain, trying to make out the person's face, but it was impossible to see clearly. Tears of frustration and agony welled up in his eyes. "I won't die," he hissed through gritted teeth.

The figure chuckled softly. "Stubborn, aren't you? I've met many people in my time and yet doubt I've met many who are as determined as you seem to be, especially considering your age."

"Age doesn't matter," Harry managed, his voice hoarse.

"You're right," the man said, nodding. "But there is still the matter of the poison. You're in no condition to do much at this point."

"There must be something I can do," Harry insisted. "I'll find my master as soon as I wake. He'll know what to do and where to get treatment."

The figure hesitated, then shook his head. "Even if you could find him in time, not all toxins can be cured by conventional means. But through the Force, many things that seem impossible can be achieved."

Harry's breath hitched. "Can I heal myself with the Force?"

The man made an affirmative sound. "In my time, those who used the Force could heal all manner of injuries in moments. That knowledge has been mostly lost, but yes, it is possible. Whether you can do it depends on your strength and focus."

"How?" Harry asked desperately.

The man's voice softened. "Trust in the Force."

Taking a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing thoughts. He reached out, feeling for the familiar energy of the Force. Slowly, the pain began to fade as he entered a meditative trance and pictured himself healthy and healed. Time seemed to stretch and blur, and after what felt like hours, he opened his eyes. The agony in his muscles and veins was gone.

Harry smiled weakly and looked up at the man. As his vision cleared, he finally recognized him. "Thank you, Revan," he murmured.

The man's expression remained unreadable as everything around Harry began to fade. The dream dissolved into darkness, and Harry woke with a start, the faint light of morning streaming through the windows.

He sat up slowly, testing his body. For a moment, he stayed there, taking stock of how his body felt. The sharp, biting pain from the toxin was gone, replaced by a lingering soreness from his other injuries from his escape. But he felt confident that the toxin was no longer a threat. Despite knowing that he knew he was far from fully recovered, he knew he couldn't stay. Every moment he lingered increased the risk to Ovan and Jaina. Quietly, he swung his legs off the couch, slipped on his boots, and headed toward the door.

He had just cracked it open when a voice from behind startled him. "Sneaking out, are we?"

Harry turned to see Ovan leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed. His face was a mix of amusement and concern. "We figured you might try something like this," Ovan said, stepping closer. "You sure you're ready to go?"

Harry hesitated but then nodded. "I have to. I can't stay here and risk putting you and Jaina in danger. The cartel is looking for me, and if they find out I've been here ..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I'm grateful for what you've done. I wouldn't have made it through the night without your help. But I need to go."

Ovan studied him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Well, you're moving better than you were yesterday, that's for sure. Guess that sleep did you more good than I would have bet on." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Still, you're not fully healed. But I get it. You've got that look about you—like you won't let anyone talk you out of this."

Harry nodded, his resolve firm. "I'll find a way to repay you someday. If you or Jaina ever need help, I'll be there."

Ovan nodded before stepping past Harry to a hook by the door. He grabbed a small bag and held it out. "Here. If you're going to leave, at least take this."

Harry opened the bag and found a compact blaster and some basic supplies—a medpack, a small datapad, and a few credit chips. He blinked, taken aback. "I can't take this," he started, but Ovan shook his head.

"Oh, you can, and you will," Ovan said firmly.

Jaina appeared in the doorway, a warm smile on her face. "It'd be poor manners to send you off just to have you get hurt again. Besides, stuff like that is easy enough to replace, especially if you know where to look."

Harry couldn't help but laugh softly. "I'll make sure this gets back to you."

Jaina shrugged before stepping forward, handing him a small wrapped bundle. "Food for the road. You'll need your strength."

Harry accepted it with a grateful nod. "Thank you. Both of you. For everything."

He turned and slipped out the door, the urgency of his mission settling heavily on his shoulders. He couldn't linger, not when the cartel was surely scouring the city for him.

Outside, the streets were already coming to life. Harry kept his head down, moving with purpose but trying not to draw attention. He had a rough idea of the direction to CorSec headquarters and made his way in that direction, weaving through the bustling crowds that seemed to already have begun preparing for the Day of Joining.

However, after a few blocks, he noticed them. A pair of suspicious-looking individuals lingering near a shop, their eyes scanning the street with deliberate intent. Harry's stomach tightened. Even without confirming their identity, he was fairly certain they were members of the cartel and they were looking for him. Their posture, their movements—it all screamed of people on the hunt.

Harry ducked his head lower, adjusting the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder. He sidestepped into the shadow of a nearby building and continued walking, doing his best to blend into the flow of pedestrians. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he moved past the cartel members, every instinct screaming at him to run, but he forced himself to stay calm and steady.

The two didn't seem to notice him. One of them gestured toward a passing speeder while the other leaned against the wall, alternating between scanning a datapad and scanning the faces of the people on that side of the street. Harry exhaled softly as he passed out of their line of sight and turned down a side street.

He quickened his pace, putting as much distance between himself and the cartel members as possible. He couldn't afford any mistakes now. His goal was clear: reach CorSec and figure out his next move.

Several hours later, Harry found himself still weaving through the bustling streets of Coronet City, his senses on high alert. The lively atmosphere was a stark contrast to his tense state. Bright banners fluttered from windows and overhead wires, displaying Corellian symbols and colors in celebration of the upcoming festivities. The air was filled with the hum of excitement—street vendors called out to passersby, enticing them with the aroma of roasted meiloorun fruit and grilled nerf skewers. Children darted through the crowds, laughing as they waved small flags, while musicians performed lively tunes on the corners.

Despite the cheer and liveliness around him, Harry kept his head down, his eyes scanning the crowds for anyone who seemed overly interested in their surroundings or him. As much as possible, he avoided the main thoroughfares, slipping through side streets and narrow alleys whenever he could. Every face he passed seemed to blur together, yet he felt like eyes were on him at every turn. His heart pounded as he adjusted the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder, his fingers brushing against the blaster inside.

He couldn't help but admire the culture of Corellia on display. It reminded him faintly of Hogsmeade during a festival—vibrant, chaotic, and full of life. But unlike the cheerful atmosphere, Harry's thoughts were a whirl of tension and urgency. He needed to get to CorSec headquarters without drawing attention to himself, a task that seemed nearly impossible in the crowded streets.

Turning into a quieter alley, Harry's luck took a turn for the worse. He collided headlong into a Rodian stepping out from a side door, the impact knocking them both off balance. Harry staggered back, muttering a quick apology before freezing. The Rodian's narrow eyes locked onto him, recognition flashing across his face.

"You," the Rodian hissed, reaching for his belt. In a flash, a vibroknife was in his hand, its edge humming with a faint electric glow. "You're the one they're looking for."

Harry's instincts screamed at him to move, but the Rodian was faster than he expected. The blade slashed toward him, grazing his arm. The electric shock coursed through Harry, dropping him to his knees. The sting wasn't unbearable, but the surprise and force of the strike left him momentarily stunned.

The Rodian smirked, raising the knife again. "You're done," he sneered, pulling a communicator from his pocket.

Harry's mind raced. He feigned weakness, slumping forward while his hand crept toward the blaster in his bag. The Rodian started speaking into the communicator, his voice urgent. But before he could finish and tell whoever he was talking to where they were, Harry whipped out the blaster and fired. The shot struck the Rodian squarely in the chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. The communicator clattered from his hand, its message incomplete.

Breathing heavily, Harry pushed himself to his feet, clutching his injured arm. The smell of scorched fabric and ozone lingered in the air as he looked around, half-expecting more cartel members to appear.

Instead, a figure emerged from the far end of the alley. Harry spun, raising his blaster, but the figure raised both hands in a placating gesture. It was an older man, a merchant by the look of him, wearing a patched tunic and carrying a crate of goods.

"Easy there, lad," the merchant said, his voice calm. "I saw the whole thing. That Rodian was trying to mug you, wasn't he?"

Harry hesitated, then lowered the blaster. "Something like that," he muttered.

The merchant shook his head, his expression one of disdain. "Blasted cartels, always preying on folks who don't deserve it. Good on you for fighting back." He stepped closer, eyeing Harry's torn sleeve and the blood staining his arm. "But you're hurt. You'll need to treat that."

Harry nodded, but before he could say anything, the merchant shrugged off his cloak and handed it to him. "Here," he said. "This'll help you blend in better. Can't have anyone else spotting you in that state, I'm guessing his friends might not be happy with what you did."

Harry took the cloak, surprised. "Thank you," he said, his voice earnest.

The merchant waved him off. "Just get out of here and stay safe. And maybe consider laying low until this celebration blows over."

Harry draped the cloak over his shoulders, pulling the hood up. "I will. Thanks again."

The merchant nodded and disappeared back into the shadows of the alley. Harry adjusted the cloak and stepped back onto the street, his movements cautious but determined. He needed to keep moving.

Over an hour later, Harry's muscles ached, and his steps felt heavier with each passing moment. The journey had taken more out of him than he'd anticipated, but he finally stood before the gates of CorSec headquarters. The imposing building loomed ahead, its sleek, utilitarian architecture a testament to Corellian pragmatism and order.

As Harry approached, the gates began to open. He tensed, unsure of what to expect, but the sight that greeted him was both surprising and oddly reassuring. Obi-Wan Kenobi stood just beyond the threshold, his expression a mix of shock and relief.

"Harry?" Obi-Wan said, stepping forward.

Kind Regards,

FavoriteAuthor

If you like this content do not hesitate to smash that like button and subscribe. Haha but seriously if you do enjoy the story - do favorite it, other than messaging me or leaving a comment it's the only way I know if you are enjoying the stories and chapters.

Story Note 1 – Well hello again Ovan! What a helpful guy, despite the sense of wanderlust that he seems to give off. Seems like an important character!

Story Note 2 – A nice little recurrence of Revan, teaching Harry some things about the Force. Force Heal in this case, although it won't become incredibly overused, and Harry is still not consciously able to use the ability and will be more tiring (Force depleting) at this point.

Story Note 3 – Hello there, Obi-Wan Kenobi! Looks like the guy is in for a surprise. Any guesses on how the reunion goes? They do have some work ahead of them but the next chapter will probably get them all the way to the assassination attempt.

A large thanks to those of you out there who enjoy my stories, I promise to keep updating the stories as long as you all are enjoying them, and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave feedback or have reached out to me directly.

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A10riddick, cameron1812, fraewyn, sh777 - Thanks so much for the feedback and I hope you continue to enjoy the story as it progresses!

IT's Blank - Magic has certainly played a part of the story however trying to balance out the use. As it was important that he learned about the Force but as he becomes more comfortable in both the usage will even out a bit.

Mariegrey90 - Thanks so much for the review! Really happy you enjoy my work!

oldmantooldrip - Trying to show the importance of him learning about the Force but that will start to balance out.

DS2010 - Isn't that the truth!

Jostanos - That's awesome to hear! Congrats! Haha was watching all your comments come in. Those were good guesses! But looks like it was someone of a different importance! Sure imagine that getting his wand back will be important ...

WhiteElfElder - Sure glad it wasn't a dark sider who found Harry. Afterall Jar Jar was no where near the planet.

Guest - Not sure what you mean.

Vukk - That is a good point will look back at it!

Monkey D. Conan - Obi-Wan would have been such a good guess but don't worry Harry will have his 'revenge'!