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Chapter XXIX Part VI

  The flight continues smoothly for a while, but an odd noise begins to echo through the Crucible's cabin. It's faint at first, just a whisper on the edge of hearing. I squint, trying to place the sound, but it grows louder by the second. I can see the others straining to listen as well.

  "What is that sound?" Rebecca asks, her eyes scanning the horizon through the windows. Nikko and Talia are both looking out as well, confusion and tension on their faces. Even IG-22 and Apollo turn their heads, their sensors locking onto the source of the noise.

  I check the radar—nothing shows up. There's nothing for kilometers around us. But the noise grows louder, more distinct, and suddenly it clicks in my mind.

  TIE-Fighters.

  I concentrate, reaching out with the Force, trying to sense any danger approaching. There, I can feel something malevolent, a twisted presence rushing at us from the direction of the sun. I glance at the radar again—still nothing—but I know it's there. I jerk the Crucible hard to the left just as a barrage of green blaster bolts streaks past us, narrowly missing the hull.

  "Hold on!" I shout as the Crucible banks. My heart races as I straighten us out, and just then, I catch sight of them—three TIE Fighters screaming past the cockpit, their distinct roar unmistakable.

  Their appearance is unnerving. Unlike normal TIE Fighters, their hulls seem to flicker with an ominous black energy. Their sharp, angular wings are jagged, like broken glass, and they trail a dark, inky smoke. Their cockpits glow faintly with a red hue, twisted and distorted, making them look like something born from a nightmare rather than spacefaring craft. The very air around them seems warped, as though they are corrupting reality itself.

  "What are those?" Rebecca asks, her voice trembling as she watches them come about for another pass.

  "TIE Fighters," I reply, gripping the controls tighter. "Fighters of the Empire. But how are they here?"

  Another hail of green blaster fire cuts through the sky, and I yank the Crucible into a dive, trying to avoid the incoming shots. The craft shudders under the strain of the sudden movement, and I hear DP-8 beeping frantically from the console.

  "I know, DP-8," I say through gritted teeth, pulling the Crucible back into a level flight. More bolts streak by us, a few slamming into the rear of the Crucible, causing the entire ship to lurch. Panic spreads across the cockpit. I see Talia's and Nikko's terrified faces as they cling to the seats, while Rebecca's knuckles turn white as she grips the handlebar tightly.

  "What did DP-8 say?" Rebecca asks, her voice strained as she tries to hold on.

  "That the shields have taken a heavy hit!" I shout as I throw the craft into a sharp dive, the ground rushing up to meet us. The sudden shift in gravity presses me into my seat, and I can hear the others groaning from the force of the maneuver. Talia and Nikko cling desperately to the seats, while Rebecca lets out a terrified shriek.

  An alarm starts blaring over the cabin, causing Talia, Nikko and Rebecca to cover their ears, panic in their faces.

  "Ryu, what's happening?" Talia shouts, her voice tinged with panic.

  "Ion torpedoes incoming!" I shout as I spot three white dots rapidly closing in on us from behind. I slam my hand on the alarm button, shutting off the blaring noise filling the cabin. I twist the controls to the left, sending the Crucible into a wild spin.

  The vast desert becomes a blur as the Crucible twirls in the air, the world spinning uncontrollably outside the windows. Rebecca shrieks again, while Talia holds tightly to the handlebar, her eyes wide with terror. Nikko buries her face into Talia's shoulder, clutching her tightly as her small body trembles.

  A loud explosion erupts behind us, and the entire ship shudders violently. The pressure forces me to keep the ship spinning, trying to avoid the residual ion blast. With a deep breath, I pull the craft out of the spin, steadying it as the remaining ion charges dissipate harmlessly behind us.

  "That was too close," I mutter under my breath. My muscles ache from the strain of the last maneuver, but there's no time to rest. The blaster fire resumes, streaking past us from all angles. Enough of this. I yank the controls sharply, spinning the Crucible around to face the incoming TIE Fighters.

  "Hold on!" I shout as I line up the shots, pressing down on the firing mechanism. The Crucible's blaster cannons roar to life, sending large green bolts of energy streaking towards the three TIE Fighters. Each shot connects, and for a moment, I expect the usual explosions. But instead, something far stranger happens.

  The TIE Fighters melt away into black goo, dissolving mid-air before they hit the ground. The inky substance splatters across the desert sand, hissing and evaporating as if it never existed. The sky clears, and for a moment, the world feels still.

  Everyone exhales in unison. I let out a long breath, and I hear the others doing the same. My heart is still pounding in my chest, adrenaline surging through me.

  ?????

  "Is everyone alright?" I ask, glancing around the cockpit. Talia gives a shaky nod, her face still pale with fear. Nikko clutches her tightly, but she manages a small nod as well. Rebecca looks rattled, still gripping the handlebar with both hands, her face flushed with fear.

  "I. Hate. Flying," Rebecca growls through clenched teeth, shooting me a glare.

  "Noted," I say with a small, tired grin as I take the controls and reorient the ship. The horizon beckons as I press forward, but the knot in my chest tightens. How could TIE Fighters be here? I don't like it, not one bit.

  "They turned into goo, just like the Shadowfell's followers," Talia points out, her voice still shaky.

  "I couldn't detect any electronic signatures," Apollo adds, his voice breaking the silence.

  "That's because they weren't real TIE Fighters," I say, gripping the controls harder. I glance at Talia as her brows furrow in confusion.

  "But how would the Shadowfell know about them?" Talia asks.

  "It's been in my mind," I mutter. "If it can create followers, it's not far off to think it can create things from my memories."

  Apollo nods in agreement. "It is within reason. The Shadowfell can draw on your thoughts to construct enemies it knows you recognize. However, these creations are not real, but manifestations of its power."

  I don't like that. Not at all. What else could it pull from my mind? How much of me does the Shadowfell know now? What else could it conjure?

  As we continue, the foul presence returns, far stronger now, twisting my gut with dread. I look to the horizon and feel my stomach drop as I see dozens of tiny black dots appear in the horizon, slowly growing larger.

  "Hold on!" I shout as the black dots begin to take form—dozens of TIE Fighters. They're closing in fast from all sides, their screeching engines filling the air. Talia and Rebecca grip the handlebars again, the tension in the cabin thickening. Nikko clings tightly to Talia, her small body trembling as she closes her eyes.

  The sky is a battlefield of green streaks, blaster fire crisscrossing from every angle as the TIE Fighters close in. My heart pounds as I grip the controls tighter, feeling the weight of this fight press down on me. There are at least thirty of them—thirty-three, I count, darting through the sky like angry hornets, their distinct howls filling the air. The sun glints off their black, jagged wings, and that inky black smoke trails behind them, making it look like they're tearing reality apart as they fly.

  I yank the controls hard to the right, feeling the Crucible shudder under the strain as it banks sharply. The pull of gravity presses me into my seat, and I hear the others groaning behind me from the sudden shift. Green bolts of energy zip past the viewport, narrowly missing us. The adrenaline surges through my veins as I dive down, trying to lose them in the swirling chaos of their attack patterns.

  "Hold on!" I shout as I flip the Crucible into a corkscrew, spiraling through the incoming fire. My muscles strain against the G-forces as we spin wildly. I catch a glimpse of Nikko clinging tightly to Talia, her eyes squeezed shut, while Rebecca clutches her seat in terror. DP-8's frantic beeping fills the cabin, adding to the chaos.

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  The TIE Fighters are relentless, their blaster bolts hissing through the air as they home in on us. One of the shots connects with the rear of the Crucible, sending a violent jolt through the craft. Warning lights flare up across the console as I struggle to maintain control. The cabin fills with the acrid smell of burning metal as another shot strikes the wing. We can't take much more of this.

  I throw the Crucible into a sudden climb, the engines whining in protest as we rocket upward. My teeth grit against the strain, and I force the ship higher and higher, trying to outmaneuver the pursuing fighters. The sky grows dark as we leave the clouds behind, and for a moment, I think we've lost them. But then, that all-too-familiar sound returns—a screech like a banshee's wail, the sound of more TIE Fighters homing in on our position.

  "They're still on us!" Rebecca cries out, her voice full of fear.

  "I know!" I shout back as I throw the Crucible into a nosedive, the horizon tilting wildly as we plunge back down toward the desert below. The sand rushes up to meet us, and I pull up just in time, the speeder leveling out only meters above the ground. The TIE Fighters follow suit, their blaster fire ripping through the air around us.

  I press down on the firing mechanism, sending large green bolts of energy streaking back toward the fighters. One of them explodes in a puff of black goo, disintegrating in midair and splattering across the dunes. Another one goes down just as quickly, dissolving into the same inky substance. But there are too many of them. For every Tie Fighter I shoot down, two more seem to take its place.

  "DP-8, reroute power to the shields!" I command, sweat dripping down my forehead as I try to keep us alive.

  DP-8 responds with a series of frantic beeps, the shields flickering as it diverts all available power. I juke the Crucible left and right, narrowly avoiding another volley of blaster fire. But we're running out of time.

  Blaster fire zips past us from every angle, some of the bolts slamming into the weakening shields. The sound of metal straining under the onslaught fills the cockpit, and I grit my teeth, pushing the ship as hard as I can to keep us in one piece. DP-8's frantic beeping rings through the cockpit, warning me of the impending shield failure.

  "I know, DP-8!" I snap as I slam the controls forward, diving us low toward the dunes below. The ground rushes up at us at terrifying speed, the G-forces pressing us into our seats. I feel every muscle tense as I pull us out of the dive, skimming the tops of the dunes as more blaster fire rains down from above.

  The sound of those TIEs—the screaming engines—grows louder as they close the gap, their blasters tearing through the sky. I throw the Crucible into another tight corkscrew, narrowly dodging another barrage that would have fried us on the spot. Sweat beads on my forehead, and I can hear the others straining against their safety restraints as we twist and turn through the air.

  "Brace yourselves!" I shout as I pull the controls into a hard loop, bringing the Crucible around to face the incoming fighters head-on. I fire off another volley, the blaster cannons roaring to life as more of the black goo fighters disintegrate into the sky. But then, my heart sinks as the radar starts blaring again.

  Ion torpedoes.

  "Ion torpedoes incoming!" I shout. "Everyone hold on!"

  I yank the controls again, forcing the ship into a wild spiral as I try to throw off the torpedoes' tracking. My muscles ache as I fight to keep the ship steady through the violent maneuvers. I push us into a steep climb, then yank us into a sharp dive, hoping to throw the torpedoes off our tail.

  The first explosion rocks the speeder from behind, the shockwave sending us lurching forward. The cabin fills with warning signals as the shields buckle under the force. I glance back at the radar—two torpedoes still closing in. My heart races, and I push the speeder to its limits, the engines straining as I try to outmaneuver them.

  Suddenly, another explosion. The second torpedo hits its mark. The speeder jerks violently, and I struggle to keep control as one of the engines sputters and the power flickers. The controls go stiff in my hands, and the lights in the cabin dim.

  "Shields are down!" Apollo reports, his voice eerily calm amid the chaos.

  "Great..." I mutter through gritted teeth as I glance at the incoming fighters. The last torpedo is closing in, and I know I can't dodge it this time. I force myself to focus, reaching out with the Force to slow the impact, to protect us from what's coming.

  The final torpedo slams into the rear of the ship with a deafening blast. The ship bucks violently, alarms blaring in every direction. The power cuts out completely, and we're falling.

  I close my eyes for a brief moment, reaching out through the Force to cushion our descent. It's like trying to hold back a tidal wave—my muscles strain, and I can feel my head pounding as I pour every ounce of concentration into slowing our fall.

  The ground rushes up at us, and I grit my teeth, pushing harder. We hit the sand with a bone-rattling crash, the Crucible skidding across the dunes in a cloud of dust and debris. I can feel the strain on my body as I fight to keep us from rolling, the ship dragging to a halt after what feels like an eternity. For a moment, everything is still.

  I slowly open my eyes, the world spinning around me as I try to steady my breath. I glance around the Crucible. Talia and Nikko are clutching each other tightly, their eyes wide with shock but unharmed. Relief floods through me.

  "Is everyone okay?" I ask, my voice shaky as I try to catch my breath.

  Talia nods slowly, still holding Nikko close. "We're fine..." she says, though her voice trembles with the adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

  Rebecca groans from the backseat, her knuckles white from gripping the handlebar. She looks around the cabin, taking in the state of the ship. "By the Gods, we are still alive!" she says, a smile forming on her face as she closes her eyes, lets out a sigh of relief, and falls back on her seat.

  I smile weakly, despite the tension still gripping my chest. I reach for the controls, trying to power up the systems, but the Crucible remains lifeless. I glance out the viewport and see the TIE Fighters—what's left of them—turning away, disappearing into the horizon. Then, one by one, they vanish into puffs of black smoke. Just like before. Just like the Shadowfell's followers. They could have finished us off... but they didn't.

  I slam my fist against the console in frustration. "It's toying with us..."

  ?????

  After releasing my own harness, I turn to help Nikko, who is curled up on Talia's lap in the co-pilot's seat. Her ears twitch slightly, her wide eyes alert but showing no sign of injury. "You okay, Nikko?" I ask, reaching out to help her down from Talia's lap.

  She nods, steadying herself as she takes my hand. "Just a little rattled, Papa," she says, her tail flicking nervously.

  I give her shoulder a gentle squeeze and turn my attention to Talia, who looks up at me with a reassuring smile, though her grip on the armrest is tight. "You're alright?" I ask, scanning her for any visible injuries.

  "Fine," she replies, breathing out as she lets go of the armrest. "Nothing I can't handle."

  Rebecca, seated further back, looks a bit dazed. I make my way to her, offering a steady hand as she adjusts to the sudden heat. "I... I'm alright," she says with a faint nod, brushing herself off as she stands.

  With everyone confirmed to be okay, I move toward the cargo area and press the release switch. The door opens with a soft hiss, and the landing ramp extends from the Crucible's belly, the harsh desert heat hitting us as it fully descends. The landscape before us is nothing but sand and sky, the intense sun casting long shadows across the barren ground.

  One by one, we descend the ramp, stepping out into the searing desert heat. The bright sunlight bears down on us, and the sand shifts beneath our feet, every step a reminder of the unforgiving terrain we've found ourselves in.

  Apollo and IG-22 have already begun their task, moving methodically as they unload crates and gear from the cargo hold. Apollo handles the heavier crates, while IG-22 stacks smaller packs of supplies—food, water, ammunition, and basic tools—organizing them neatly on the sand. It's not much, but it's everything we managed to grab on short notice, and it'll have to do.

  I turn back to inspect the Crucible, the sight of the damage making my stomach twist. One of her sleek silver engines has a deep, charred hole punched through it, the metal twisted and scorched. Another engine has exposed wiring and loose plating, the vulnerable parts glinting in the sun. The once-smooth, elegant hull is pitted with blast marks and scratches, reminders of our close call with the TIE-fighters.

  Talia steps beside me, following my gaze over the ship. "Can she be fixed?" she asks, her voice a mixture of hope and worry.

  I nod, though I feel the weight of reality pressing down. "She's fixable... but it would take too long." I run a hand over the pitted hull, feeling the rough texture of the sand-scratched metal beneath my fingers. "We'd need hours—maybe even days—to get her back up to speed. And we don't have that kind of time."

  Talia sighs, her fingers brushing lightly over the surface as if willing the ship to heal faster. "I know how much effort you put into rebuilding her..." she trails off, her voice laced with sympathy.

  I offer her a small, reassuring smile, patting the side of the Crucible. "I'll fix her up again. Don't you worry. But right now, we have other priorities."

  DP-8 emerges from cargo room, its frantic beeping filling the air as it zips over to me and then the others.

  "We're fine, DP-8," I assure the droid. "A few bruises, but nothing serious."

  "Looks like we're walking the rest of the way," I mutter, trying to keep the frustration from my voice.

  "How much further?" Talia asks, glancing at the horizon where the dunes stretch out endlessly before us.

  I activate the holographic map from my gauntlet, zooming in on our current location. "Four kilometers," I say. "If we keep moving and take small breaks, we should arrive in just a couple of hours."

  A collective groan of annoyance comes from the group, and I can't help but share the sentiment. Walking through the desert with the Shadowfell waiting for us wasn't part of the plan. Without the Crucible, everything will be that much harder. Taking on the Shadowfell and its forces is going to be a lot more dangerous now without our air support.

  I head to the back of the speeder and open the various crates where my blasters are stored. My hand instinctively reaches for the A-23 heavy rotary blaster, its weight familiar and comforting as I lift it and hand it to Apollo. The droid accepts it with a nod, slinging the weapon across his back.

  "What about my current weapons? Apollo asks, its mechanical voice steady as always.

  "I suggest you use blasters and vibro blades," I say, activating the Eye-Bots. They whir to life and fly around us for a moment, taking in their surroundings. Apollo nods as it unhooks its shield and spear and places them into his bag of holding. It took some time for me, but I decided to put away the Crucible into my own bag of holdings. Thank the Force for these amazing bag of holdings.

  Once everything is in order, I take a deep breath. I glance over at my companions—Talia, Nikko, Rebecca, DP-8, my Eye-Bots, Apollo, and IG-22—all looking back at me with determination in their eyes. We're all bruised, exhausted, but still standing. Despite the frustration, I see determination in their eyes. We've come too far to stop now.

  With one final deep breath, I give them a nod. "Let's move."

  We head out into the desert, the scorching sun beating down on us, the sand shifting beneath our feet with each step.

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