Playlist:

❶ "The Falcon"—The Force Awakens OST

❷ "Torn Apart"—The Force Awakens OST

⊘ Silence

❸ "Rosemary Recalls"—The Man From Snowy River OST

❶ Naluma steered the military speeder around an outcropping, racing toward the Jedi Enclave. Strapped into the passenger's seat, Luke hunched over, punctuating every curve with pained groans.

"Hang on, Master Luke. We're almost home."

As they entered the straight-away, she opened the throttle. The entropy smashed them against the seats, their hair flying in the wind.

Half a click.

The trees and rocks blurred.

The vehicle shimmied above the hard-packed path.

Luke grunted. Moaned. Shuddered. Shook. Quaked. Growled.

His body tossed around in the seat, the belt grabbing him at the waist. He flailed his arms, knocking Naluma in the nose. She blocked him with one of her arms.

He mumbled incoherently, "No ... saber ... cut ... help."

"Almost home."

When she ran his hand over her waist, his arm pummeled her again. He groaned and grasped his side.

Naluma glimpsed the hilt of his lightsaber sawing between his hip and the safety belt.

"Hang in there, master."

But it was too late. Nylon bands spilt, the belt unraveling as the hilt severed the harness.

With a jerk, he tumbled out of the speeder.

"No!"

She reached out her arm and grabbed him with the Force to slow his descent. Halting the speeder with a screech, she jumped out and hastened to him.

He squirmed in the dirt, a layer of dust rising above him.

She kneeled beside him and touched his arm. "Mas—"

An avalanche of raw power caught her in the chest and tossed her against the speeder a few meters away. "Ugh."

She crawled to him as he struggled. Closing her eyes and finding her balance, she reached out with the Force. Darkness was all she found. It leeched all light from him. Inky splotches spread from his heart to his limbs. She extended her hand but stopped centimeters away. "Master. Master."

She touched his mind. The darkness almost consumed it now. She probed the one spot left. "Luke."

He groaned and twisted.

"It's me. It's Naluma."

Do it now. It's almost too late. We're losing him.

A baritone voice echoed in her head.

Take his hand. Let the light push back the darkness.

Catching Luke's flying hand, she weaved her fingers into his. Electricity soared between them. She focused at the strands of blackness. She pushed back at the cloud around the brain. Wave after wave devoured the inky blotch.

Why? Why did he have to do this? This is all my fault, her unseen guide muttered.

She ignored him. The tremors dissipated.

Naluma opened her eyes. Luke stared at her, hair standing on end, uniform filthy.

He closed his eyes and curled into a ball, hugging his knees. Tears flowed. His entire body quaked.

She clutched his arm and pulled him to her side. "You're freezing."

With the Force she flicked a few latches on the speeder and drew the med kit to her. Within seconds, she had wrapped him in a reflective emergency blanket and had activated hot packs for his hands.

Lowering her head to his chest, she counted his respirations—twenty-five and shallow. Heart pounded like an out-of-control turbohammer.

She fed him the light.

When he started to quake once more, she pulled in the Force from around her and sent it straight against the darkness.

For almost an hour, they fought through the attacks, only a half click from the enclave. The waves battered more strongly toward the end, like the darkness refusing to ebb. She pulled him into her lap, encircling him with her limbs, sending the light through every pressure point.

With a final convulsion that rattled their bones, the tremors ceased. His breathing and heart rates returned to normal.

❷ He pulled himself away, staring at her with his bright blue eyes. He tried to stand but collapsed on the dirt once more. "S-s-s-s-s-orry." A bright blush crossed his face as he broke into sobs.

Naluma stroked his cheek. "It's all right."

"You saw it, didn't you?" He pulled his head away. "You had to."

About to speak, she waited. Something deep within told her to.

"The darkness." He tried to stand again. "I'm no Jedi. Who am I fooling?"

"You're wrong." She placed her hand on his shoulder and opened her shields once more, searching for the darkness. "You are the most compassionate person I know. You stand for what's right. You do your best." There it was. Hiding in the amygdala of the brain. "What more can we ask for?"

He snorted. "Everything. I'm supposed to be this legend, their savior. How can I? When I can't even control myself." Tears streamed down his eyes.

"We will do this together. I know how to fight it now."

"You can barely use the Force."

"Maybe with lifting things. But not with this. This I understand. And with training, I know we can conquer this together."

"What training?"

Great. What a pair we are. I'm hearing voices. He's breaking down. Maybe we should just call it the Jedi Psych Ward. "Someone spoke to me. Told me what to do."

Luke whipped his face toward her. "A little green man?"

Shaking her head, she scrunched her nose. "Didn't see anyone this time. Just heard voices."

"This time?" He leaned in toward her. "Tell me about the other times."

"Just some visions. A young man with dark hair. But I'm never sure if it's him that talks or not. I never see a face when I hear a voice."

"When you're stronger, you will." He nodded. "What did he sound like?"

"Baritone. Young. Kind, like you." She smiled. "He blames himself for this."

"My father."

⊘ Naluma pressed her lips together and cocked her head. "You've been clear a good five minutes. Think we'd better head home while we can. You need a shower, and I can use some food."

She lifted him under the shoulder and helped him hobble to the speeder. With the broken restraint flapping in the breeze, she considered putting him into the cargo bed. No. I need to be able to reach him if he suffers another attack. "Master, scoot over to the center seat."

After dashing around the nose of the speeder, she hopped into the driver's seat. "Grab me around the waist." She pulled him in under the crook of her right arm. "Hold on tight."

The speeder rumbled to life, spewing dust around them. Naluma increased the power to half and ambled down the dirt road.

"Artoo, fire up the scrubbers." She rubbed Luke's back as he retched into the commode once more. Nothing came up this time. Just the dry heaves.

His esophagus spasmed once more. "Water."

"I'll be right back."

A few steps to the galley was all she needed. She grabbed a globe of blue bantha milk from the cooling chamber and darted back to Luke.

Back to the wall, feet sticking out, head tilted back, hair matted, chunks of vomit dripping with bile clung to his cheek and chin.

She handed him the milk. "This should combat the acid reflux. Better than water—"

He sighed and nodded while she wiped his face with a cloth. "Think you can manage a shower?"

"If I sit on the floor." His eyes widened. "Towels. Blanket." He waved toward his cabin. "Storage locker."

Naluma nodded. "How about some clothes?"

He shook his head. "I'm out."

She winked at him. "Don't worry. I think I've got something you'll fit."

"Don't think I'll fit in your underclothes."

"Well, you're not getting my lace panties." She smirked at his blush. "Ah! Looks like you're getting some color back." She elbowed him slightly. "Relax, I have some boxers—one size fits most."

His face lost its tenseness as he slumped further down the wall.

She stood up and set the shower controls. "Come on, now, let's get you over to the shower."

He grunted as she pulled him up by his hands. They squeezed him into the corner unit. Fully clothed, they lowered him to the tiled floor with the spray pattering off the fabric. He sputtered.

"Undress in there. I'll wash your uniform in the sink later."

He sighed. "Thanks."

"Call me if you need me. I'll send Artoo in with the towels."

❸ Naluma felt it in her back first. Master Skywalker's bunk vibrated beside her. Lying on his stomach, his left hand swung beside her.

She wove her fingers into his and sent probes into his mind. That's where it started. Always in the amygdala, the seat of the emotions. A few bursts of light on the darkness was all it took, but she could never find the root.

It's going to take some meditation to destroy that fear.

She let go of his fingers and leaned against the bunk as the shaking ceased. He didn't wake this time, at least. Maybe if he can get a good night's sle—

"Luma?"

"Yes, master. I'm here."

"You need your sleep."

She sighed. "You need it more."

He took her hand and rubbed the curve between her index finger and thumb. He traced the area for a few minutes.

"Master?"

"Hm?"

"Do we really need the old head?"

"Uh-huh. Morn ..."

She felt him slip from consciousness as his fingers sought hers.

Did you know ...

● The longer I think about these characters, the more their struggle becomes real. At first, I didn't even think to deal with PTSD with Luke, but there had to be a consequence of everything that happened on the Death Star. We can't just ignore life-altering experiences. He's not just dealing with grief but also the mental, physical, and spiritual attacks by the dark side prompted by the Force-lightning. I hope he's figured out that only the Force will heal him.

Tell me what you think ...

● What do you think Naluma was going to ask Luke about the old head?