The cantina buzzed with energy, its air thick with the clatter of mugs and the chatter of travelers. The dim light cast long shadows over the wooden tables, the faint hum of the neon signs flickering above creating an ambiance of casual chaos. Asa, perched in the far corner of the room, slid into the booth as if to shrink away from the noise. Her back pressed against the wall, her fingers instinctively folding in her lap, she tried to block out the feeling of being surrounded, overwhelmed by the crowd.
Varan, as usual, moved with purpose through the masses, his sharp eyes scanning the room as he approached the bar. He made his way over to Moro, who was busy behind the counter, wiping down glasses with his cloth. Asa slid into a booth in the far corner, her back pressed against the wall, her hands tucked into her lap as she tried to force herself to relax. The heat from the crowded room was beginning to make her skin itch, but she stayed still, focusing on the farthest corner of the room. She hated the noise, the chaos, the people. She hated how it felt like they were all watching her, even though they weren't.
The moment she let her focus drift, the sounds around her seemed to dull—subtly, almost imperceptibly. It was like the cantina's noise was now a far-off echo, a dull background murmur, as if she was no longer fully present. Asa's hands tightened in her lap, trying to hold on to the sensation, but she didn't quite understand it. It was like she had made herself less noticeable, but it had happened without her trying.
Varan's voice cut through her concentration, distant but clear. "Hey, Moro," he greeted the Nautolan with a smile. "Got a minute?"
Moro looked up, his bulbous eyes lighting up at the sight of Varan. "Varan! It's been a while. What can I do for you?"
"I've been hearing rumors about a ship down in the Badlands," Varan said, his tone casual but sharp. "A wreck. Some sort of distress signal. You heard anything?"
Moro glanced around the cantina before leaning in closer, lowering his voice. "Yeah, I've heard the talk. There's a distress beacon, been pinging for days now. Some scavengers have been heading out that way. Dangerous place, though... and word is, the Imperials have been poking around too."
"Imperials?" Varan repeated, a hint of concern threading through his voice.
"Yeah," Moro replied, wiping his hands on his apron as he leaned back. "I don't know what they're after, but they've been circling the area. Not sure why, but that wreck's on their radar. Could be valuable, I guess."
Varan considered this information for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "How dangerous are the Badlands this time of year?"
"Badlands are always dangerous," Moro answered with a laugh. "But yeah, more so with scavengers and Imperials about. If you're headed out there, make sure you're ready."
"Thanks, Moro," Varan said, giving him a nod. "We'll take our chances. Just keep this quiet for now."
Moro grinned. "You got it. Watch yourselves out there, Varan."
Varan gave him a nod and turned toward the booth where Asa was sitting, the weight of the conversation already sinking into his mind. Whatever the ship held, it wasn't going to be simple. The Imperials were involved, and that meant it could be more dangerous than he had anticipated. He approached the booth, his eyes scanning the room before settling on Asa, who was sitting still and quiet, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
Something about her was different, though. Varan paused for a moment, looking at her more carefully. She looked relaxed, her posture calm—but there was an odd, subtle shift in the atmosphere around her. For a split second, he felt like he had lost track of her, as if she had become part of the background, blending into the cantina itself. He blinked, his focus snapping back to her, but the feeling lingered at the back of his mind.
"Asa?" he called softly, his voice cutting through the muted buzz around her.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she seemed to refocus on him as though she had been lost in thought. She blinked a couple of times, her expression slightly confused, before offering him a small, sheepish smile. "Sorry, just... needed a moment."
Varan slid into the seat across from her, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied her. "Everything okay?"
Asa nodded quickly, her eyes avoiding his for a moment. "Yeah, just... the noise. It gets to me sometimes." She gave him a half-hearted shrug. "I don't know. I just needed to, I guess, tune it out for a minute."
Varan watched her, his thoughts momentarily distracted by the feeling that had washed over him. It was as though she had... slipped away from his perception, blended into the environment somehow. But he didn't press it. Whatever had happened, it was something for later. They had more important things to focus on now.
"Did you hear about the ship in the Badlands?" Varan asked, keeping his voice casual.
Asa nodded, her gaze snapping back to him. "Moro told you?"
"Yeah. It's dangerous out there, and with the Imperials showing up, we'll need to be careful."
"I'll be ready," Asa replied quietly, her confidence already returning. The moment of disconnection had faded, and she was back to being present with him.
Varan studied her for a moment, but then he simply nodded. "Alright. We'll head out soon. Get some rest if you need it. We don't know what's waiting for us out there."
They sat in silence for a moment, the cantina's noise slowly creeping back into their awareness. Varan, however, couldn't shake the nagging feeling about Asa's strange shift in presence. He had to keep an eye on it—but for now, there were more pressing concerns.
As they stood to leave, Varan glanced at her one last time, his thoughts a bit more scattered than usual. He couldn't quite explain what had happened just now, but it was something he'd have to come back to.
The journey to the Badlands took them hours, the landscape shifting from the familiar plains of Aurora's Reach into jagged rock formations and desolate, windswept terrain. The sky was a washed-out gray, heavy clouds hanging low, casting a dull shadow over the barren expanse. The air felt thin, dry, the gusts of wind whipping dust up in swirling clouds. It was the kind of place where you couldn't let your guard down for even a second. Varan knew this well, but the path ahead was only made more treacherous by the knowledge that the Imperials were patrolling the area.
Asa rode silently beside him, her gaze fixed ahead, the tension between them palpable. The further they went, the more Varan could sense her unease, but she didn't speak about it, nor did he press her. Instead, they both focused on the task at hand. The distress beacon had grown stronger the closer they got, a faint hum that reverberated in the back of Varan's mind.
Their transport—an old speeder bike with a rugged, patched-up hull—rumbled steadily along the rocky terrain. Varan had once had the luxury of a more advanced ship, but out here, it was all about practicality. The smaller the vehicle, the better it could maneuver through the rugged landscape, but it also meant they were more vulnerable. They couldn't afford to make too much noise.
As they neared the wreckage, the jagged remnants of the downed starship loomed in the distance, like a skeletal giant half-buried in the sand. It looked like the ship had torn through the atmosphere, its hull scarred with fire and impact. Even from this distance, the darkening clouds above seemed to add a sense of foreboding, pressing down on them like a weight.
"We'll need to be cautious once we get closer," Varan muttered, breaking the silence. His hand instinctively rested on the grip of his lightsaber, though he made no move to ignite it. "There are likely scavengers nearby, and we don't want to draw attention."
Asa nodded, her fingers gripping the handlebars a little tighter. "Got it."
They slowed their pace as they approached the ship, their eyes scanning the surroundings, looking for any sign of movement. The wreckage sprawled out before them, twisted metal and fractured pieces of the ship's frame, creating a treacherous maze of debris. The beacon's signal was stronger now, but it was also more distorted, as though the ship itself was fighting back against the systems that were struggling to keep it running.
Varan's eyes flicked to the sky, scanning the horizon for any signs of Imperial patrols. He'd been around long enough to know when something didn't feel right. He could sense something in the air, a subtle shift in the atmosphere, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Asa's posture stiffened beside him, her gaze darting around, as if she too could feel the tension in the air.
A sudden sound broke the silence—a faint hum in the distance. It was almost too soft at first, barely detectable above the wind. But then it grew louder, sharper. Varan's pulse quickened as he recognized the sound: the unmistakable hum of a probe droid. The Imperials had already sent one to scout the area.
"Stay low," Varan hissed, his voice sharp. He shifted his position, pulling the speeder bike behind a cluster of rocks, and gestured for Asa to do the same. They both crouched low, watching the approaching droid through the jagged rock formations.
The probe droid's sleek form hovered above the sand, its sensors scanning the wreckage below. It was a cold, mechanical presence, its shiny black exterior gleaming in the fading light. As it passed over them, the droid's sensors whirred, its red eye flashing with an eerie intensity. It moved in a slow arc, clearly looking for something—or someone.
Varan held his breath, his grip tightening on his lightsaber hilt. Asa was completely still beside him, her eyes wide and focused, her breathing slow and measured. She was already picking up on the tension, sensing the danger. The hum of the droid's engines was growing louder as it drifted closer, its probe arm extending to scan the area around the wreck.
It passed over them, only a few meters above their position, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. Varan's heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He could almost feel the droid's sensors skimming over their hiding spot, but the Force was with them, keeping them hidden for now. Asa's presence was barely a whisper in his mind, but it was there—a faint, subtle shift in the Force, almost like a wave of calm that seemed to surround them both.
But then, just as the probe droid moved past them, something strange happened. Asa's presence, which had been quiet and contained, seemed to... dissipate. It was as if she had become part of the landscape itself, blending into the environment with such precision that for a moment, Varan lost track of her entirely. His eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat as he looked to his left—where she had been just seconds ago.
And then, just as quickly, Asa reappeared beside him, her eyes wide, focused. She hadn't made a sound, hadn't moved, but somehow, she had vanished from his senses for a moment. The droid's sensors must have passed over them without detecting anything. For a moment, Varan was lost for words, the feeling of her absence lingering in his mind.
But the probe droid was still in range, and they couldn't afford to be distracted. The droid's sensors beeped once more before it turned, its focus shifting away from their position.
"Now," Varan whispered, urgency threading his voice.
Without hesitation, they both moved, silently creeping toward the wreckage, using the terrain for cover. Asa's breath was steady, her movements fluid as she matched his pace. As they approached the wrecked ship, Varan's eyes never left the probe droid, watching its every movement until it was far enough out of range for them to continue.
The ship was within reach now, the darkened hull looming above them. They moved quickly, but cautiously, making their way through the jagged wreckage toward the entry point. The last thing they needed was to trigger any of the ship's volatile systems, or worse, draw unwanted attention.
As they slipped inside the wreckage, Varan shot a glance at Asa. She didn't say anything, but her posture was different now, a little more composed, though her brow was furrowed in concentration. He could tell something had shifted within her. Whatever that was—whatever she had done—it had been enough to keep them out of sight, out of danger.
Varan didn't have time to ask about it now. They were in the thick of it. But he made a note to himself—there was something about Asa's abilities that was beginning to show itself, and it was far more powerful than he'd anticipated.
The wreckage loomed over them as they crept through the jagged debris, its darkened hull casting long, ominous shadows across the ground. The ship had clearly seen better days—burnt-out sections, collapsed panels, and the faint smell of ionized metal all attested to the severity of its crash. The distress signal was still active, though much weaker now, and it guided them toward the entrance—what was left of a gaping hole in the side of the ship.
Varan paused just before entering the wreckage, scanning the area for any signs of movement. The last thing they needed was a surprise attack, especially from scavengers who'd likely been picking over the wreck for anything useful. He could sense no immediate threats, but the place was a maze of twisted metal, making it difficult to track their surroundings.
"Stay close," he whispered to Asa, his voice low but sharp. She nodded, her eyes focused on the dark maw of the wreck.
They slipped inside with ease, the faint glow of their lightsabers illuminating their way as they traversed the inside of the ship. The atmosphere was thick with dust, the remnants of broken panels and forgotten tools littering the floor. The air smelled stale, filled with the scent of burned electronics and scorched metal.
As they moved deeper into the wreckage, Varan's instincts kept him on high alert. It was clear this ship had been abandoned—or so it seemed. Still, there were too many hiding places for anyone to be truly alone in here. He could feel the remnants of life on the ship, scattered and faint but still there, like an echo of the crew that had once manned it.
"What are we looking for?" Asa whispered, her voice low, but tinged with the same curiosity Varan had noticed earlier. She was beginning to show an interest in more than just the Force—she wanted to know everything. To learn.
Varan didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached out with his senses, searching for the data cache the beacon had hinted at. His eyes flicked to the remains of a console, one that had likely been central to the ship's navigation systems. The equipment was damaged but still salvageable.
"We need to find the data," he said finally, his voice a murmur. "The star charts are critical. They might have hyperspace routes, coordinates...information that could change the balance of power."
Asa's gaze sharpened, her brow furrowing in concentration. She stepped forward, bending down to inspect a section of the wreckage where a data terminal had been crushed but still held fragments of its core. Varan stayed a few steps behind her, his eyes constantly darting between the wreckage and the entrance they had just come through.
They had barely begun searching when a sound broke the silence—a faint scraping, the hiss of a metal object shifting, followed by the murmur of voices. Varan's head snapped up.
"Scavengers," he muttered under his breath, his tone terse. "They're here."
The voices grew louder, the sound of metal scraping against the ground drawing closer. Varan's senses flared, and he instinctively moved to pull Asa back toward cover. He didn't need to look at her to know she could feel it too—tension crackling in the air as the footsteps drew nearer.
"Varan," Asa whispered, her voice steady but filled with anxiety, "How are we going to get the data?"
Varan glanced at her, feeling the weight of her question. He had a plan, but it was risky, and it relied on her ability to trust him. He gave her a slight nod, then held up his hand, signaling for her to stay quiet.
"I'll create a diversion. You get the data," Varan said, his voice low but firm. "When I say, you'll need to hide yourself from them. Use the Force to make yourself unseen."
Asa frowned, confusion flickering in her eyes. "Hide? How? I don't—"
Varan placed a hand on her shoulder, his gaze intense. "Focus, Asa. Trust me. Use the Force to cloak yourself. It will hide you from their senses. They won't see you if you do it right."
Asa looked at him, uncertainty flickering across her face. "Cloak?" she repeated, clearly unsure what he meant.
Varan kept his voice low, offering a quick explanation. "It's like... masking your presence. Making yourself invisible, so others can't sense you. You can do this. We've practiced focusing your mind before, this is just an extension of that. You'll learn more later, but for now, just concentrate and don't let them feel you."
Asa hesitated, then nodded, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Okay," she said quietly, more to herself than to Varan.
"I'll keep them occupied," Varan assured her, his eyes narrowing as he prepared for the next step. "When I give the signal, you move quickly. We don't have much time."
Without waiting for further instruction, Varan moved silently into position, his amber lightsaber still concealed in his cloak. He watched Asa for a moment, making sure she was ready. Her eyes were locked onto the ship's entrance, her breathing slow and steady as she prepared herself.
Varan glanced back at the scavengers, who were still busy pawing through the wreckage. He had only a moment to act. With a sharp motion, he ignited his lightsaber, sending a flash of amber light cutting through the dark space. The scavengers froze, their heads whipping toward the source of the sound.
"Hey!" one of them shouted, reaching for his blaster. "Who's there?"
Varan's heart raced, but his movements were smooth and practiced. He swung his blade in a wide arc, severing a metal support beam and sending a shower of sparks and debris scattering toward the scavengers. They ducked in surprise, and Varan seized the opportunity to sprint in the opposite direction.
"Go!" he shouted over his shoulder, hoping Asa would understand.
As the scavengers gave chase, shouting at each other to form a perimeter, Asa focused inward. She remembered Varan's words and tried to shut out everything else—distracting herself from the rising panic, the blaring sounds of the scavengers shouting, and the chaotic energy filling the space. She focused on the Force, pushing outwards, trying to make herself as small as possible.
For a brief moment, she felt it—an emptiness in the Force. It was subtle at first, like a shift in the air, but she could tell something had changed. She no longer felt the prickle of the scavengers' awareness, no longer felt their eyes on her.
Taking a deep breath, Asa moved quietly through the ship, slipping past the wreckage and toward the data terminal. Her heart pounded, but the Force cloaked her presence. As she reached the console, she hesitated. Could it really be this simple?
She glanced back toward the entrance. Varan's distraction was still working—the scavengers were clearly struggling to keep up, but she knew it wouldn't last forever. The sooner she retrieved the data, the better.
She reached the terminal, her fingers working quickly over the damaged controls. The interface sparked, but Asa was able to pull out the data core before the system fully powered down. With it in hand, she turned and began to make her way back, moving like a shadow, her presence hidden by the Force.
But as she neared the edge of the wreck, a sharp sound broke the silence—one of the scavengers had seen something move. They were closer now, no longer just fumbling around the wreckage but actively searching.
Asa's breath caught in her throat. She moved faster, but a figure appeared from behind a twisted piece of metal. The scavenger's eyes locked onto her, his hand raised to signal his companions. Asa's heart stopped, and she instinctively reached out with the Force, her fear fuelling her.
Just as the scavenger took a step toward her, she focused everything into one swift movement—a gentle push with the Force, sending the man stumbling backward into a pile of debris. It wasn't enough to hurt him, but it was enough to throw him off balance. He fell, crashing into the ground with a loud thud.
Varan's voice echoed in her mind. Move.
She didn't hesitate. With the data securely in her grasp, she sprinted toward the exit. Her cloak held firm, and the scavengers never saw her—didn't even feel her presence as she darted between the shadows, heading for the opening of the wreck.
When she finally reached Varan, he was waiting for her just outside, his amber blade extinguished as he surveyed the area. "Nice work," he said, his voice low, but there was an approving gleam in his eyes.
Asa's chest heaved as she caught her breath. "Did I… did I do it right? I couldn't feel them—"
Varan nodded. "You did great. You cloaked yourself perfectly." He took a moment, his gaze thoughtful. "We'll talk more about it later. Just keep your focus, and you'll get better with it."
She glanced down at the data core in her hand, a sense of accomplishment swelling inside her. "Let's get out of here," she said, the adrenaline still coursing through her.
Varan didn't need to be told twice. He offered her a small smile before he turned and set off toward the speeder. "Let's go, before they realize they're missing someone."
As they sped away from the wreckage, Asa looked out at the horizon, her mind racing with thoughts of what they'd just accomplished—and what more she could learn. Varan's promise to explain more about the Force cloak lingered in her mind.
As they returned to their quarters in Aurora's Reach, the sounds of the settlement fading into the distance, Asa couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that lingered from their encounter at the wrecked ship. The way the Force had responded to her—how she had cloaked herself from the scavengers, then used it to avoid the probe droid—was still something she didn't fully understand.
She had never consciously called on the Force to do something like that before, but it felt so natural when it happened. Yet, what worried her was the realization that she didn't know how she did it or if she could do it again. It was one thing to hide from the Empire when the need arose, but it was another to know how to control it.
Varan entered their small living space, removing his cloak and setting the data core carefully on the table. Asa lingered by the door, watching him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She needed answers.
"Varan," she began, her voice hesitant, "what happened back there? When I used the Force to cloak myself... I've never done anything like that before. Not like that. I didn't even know I was doing it."
Varan glanced over at her, a quiet understanding in his gaze. He leaned against the table, crossing his arms, and let out a small breath.
"You've done it before," he said calmly.
Asa blinked, surprised. "What do you mean?"
Varan gave her a pointed look. "Back in the cantina, when we first got there. It wasn't as strong as it was during the escape with the probe droid, but it was there. You didn't want to be seen, and you unintentionally used the Force to make yourself... harder to notice."
Asa's eyes widened in realization. "I—I didn't even know I was doing that. I just didn't want to be in the crowd. I didn't like how loud everything was." She shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around it. "How did I do that?"
Varan gave her a small, reassuring smile, though his expression remained serious. "The Force does a lot of things when you don't think about it. When you were uncomfortable, your instinct was to hide—your body and your mind both wanted to shrink away. The Force just followed that, and you cloaked yourself without realizing it. When you were hiding from the probe droid, it was the same thing. The Force just responded to the need to protect yourself."
"I don't know how I did it," Asa murmured, frustration creeping into her voice. "How can I control it if I don't know what I'm doing?"
Varan met her gaze, his voice steady and patient. "You don't always need to know how. The key is letting go of the fear of failure. You're not trying to force the power—it's about allowing the Force to flow. What you did back there was instinctive. Now you need to learn to control it, to be aware of it, so you can use it when it's necessary."
Asa still looked uncertain. "But how do I do that?"
Varan placed a hand on the table, his eyes softening. "We'll work on it. This isn't something you learn overnight. But I know you can do it, Asa. I saw it back in the cantina. It's like any other skill in the Force—you need practice, focus, and time."
He didn't add anything more, and Asa didn't ask. The way he spoke was calm, but there was an unspoken understanding between them. Varan had been through the same journey himself, learning to navigate the unpredictable nature of the Force.
"Okay," Asa said after a moment, her voice stronger now. "I'll try."
Varan nodded, giving her an encouraging smile. "We'll take it one step at a time. Don't rush yourself."
Asa sat back in her chair, the weight of the day's events settling in. Her training had just taken a major step forward, and though she still felt uncertain, she knew one thing for sure—Varan was there to help her, guiding her through the unknown, just as he had since the beginning.
Her thoughts shifted back to the strange sensation of her presence fading into nothingness, to the way it had felt like slipping between shadows. It was a strange power, but one she was starting to realize she could control.