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Bound to the pillar, Senator Riyo Chuchi closed her eyes for a brief mont, the cold bite of the night pressing against her exposed skin. The Mandalorian guards still lingered, speaking in their harsh, guttural tongue, their armor mismatched and incomplete—a sign of desperation among the remnants of Death Watch.
Then, she felt it again.
A pulse in the Force, a whisper in her mind, threading through her thoughts like a soft current.
We’re coming.
Her breath caught, her heart thrumming in response. But it was more than just relief—there was warmth to it, a presence unlike any she had felt before. A connection forming between her and Wilhelm Kriss, a thread that bound them in sothing deep, sothing unspoken.
She didn’t know it yet, but a Force Dyad had been ford.
A slow, uncertain longing curled inside her. She had never t Will before, yet at this mont, it was as if she had known him all her life.
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The Battle for Riyo – Will’s Perspective
Crouched behind a rocky outcropping, Will’s gaze was fixed on the Mandalorian encampnt. He could feel Riyo’s presence, strong and steady despite her captivity. Sothing about their earlier connection lingered in his mind, but now was not the ti to dwell on it.
Betsy Tay knelt beside him, her blue lightsaber unignited but ready, her noble blue gown a stark contrast to the grim battlefield. "Our distraction worked. They’re watching the canyon pass, waiting for an ambush."
Will smirked. "Good. Let’s give them what they want."
They moved in tandem. Betsy ignited her saber first, charging head-on, drawing the Mandalorians toward her with a bold, elegant flourish of her blade. Blaster fire erupted in her direction, but she deflected the bolts effortlessly, spinning between shots.
Will took the opening.
Leaping high with the Force, he landed among the distracted Mandalorians, his own blade igniting mid-spin. He struck fast, cutting down two before they could react. Their armor was incomplete, their defenses weak, and despite their training, they were no match for two Jedi working in perfect synchronization.
Blaster shots rang from every direction, but Will moved like water, flowing between attacks, parrying, striking, dodging. He could feel Betsy beside him, their movents complentary, like a deadly dance honed in re monts of battle.
Through it all, Riyo watched, captivated.
Her golden eyes widened as Will cut down another attacker, the precision in his strikes srizing. But what struck her more was the feeling in her chest—the strange, inexplicable pull toward him.
She had been waiting for rescue. But she hadn’t expected to feel sothing so personal.
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The Battle for Riyo – Betsy’s Perspective
Betsy deflected a blaster bolt into an enemy’s visor, dropping the Mandalorian where he stood. She had fought many battles, but this one felt different.
Will’s presence was strong, but there was sothing else—his focus was divided.
The senator?
Betsy frowned slightly. Now wasn’t the ti for distractions.
Glancing to the left, she spotted a secondary cage near the edge of the camp, a Mandalorian woman shackled inside. Unlike the others, she had been stripped of her armor, her wrists bound behind her back in electro-cuffs.
"Will, there’s a prisoner!"
Will’s eyes snapped to her, then to the captured Mandalorian. He hesitated for a split second, then made his choice. "Get the senator! I’ll handle this."
Betsy didn’t argue. She rushed forward, slicing through the last two Mandalorian guards before they could react. Their bodies hit the ground just as she reached Riyo Chuchi, who gasped in relief.
"You’re safe now, Senator," Betsy said firmly, cutting through her restraints with one swift movent.
Riyo’s breath shuddered as she rubbed her sore wrists, her heart still hamring from the battle.
But then her eyes drifted to Will—who was still fighting.
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Will swung his saber up, deflecting a downward strike from the last standing Mandalorian, a seasoned warrior with battle-worn scars. Their vibroblade screeched against his saber before he twisted his wrist, slicing through the weapon entirely.
The warrior fell to one knee, breathing heavily. Defeat was inevitable.
Will deactivated his saber. "Surrender. You don’t have to die today."
The Mandalorian panted, glaring up at him. "You kill my people. You think I’ll let you take ?"
A voice cut through the mont. "She isn’t one of them."
Betsy stood behind Will now, Riyo beside her.
Will frowned. "What?"
Betsy gestured to the woman. "She was a captive of them. Not one of the Death Watch remnants."
Will turned back to the Mandalorian, realization dawning on him. Her armor had been taken. She had been cast out.
He extended a hand. "Then co with us. We can help you."
The Mandalorian woman’s jaw tightened. She didn’t want to, but didn’t have much of a choice. Then, after a long mont—she reached out and clasped his hand.
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The battle was over, but their fight was not. The remaining Cathar warlords would be alerted soon, and they needed to leave before reinforcents arrived.
With the senator freed and a new warrior saved, they sprinted toward the Nebula’s Grace, blaster fire trailing behind them.
Will took the pilot’s chair, quickly adjusting the controls as the ship’s engines roared to life. Betsy manned the defense turrets, fending off the last remnants of resistance as the ship soared into the sky.
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The red alert lights pulsed through the cockpit of the stealth reconnaissance ship, casting an eerie glow on Riyo Chuchi’s face. Her usually vibrant blonde hair, styled in its signature twin topknots, was slightly disheveled, and her normally composed expression was etched with a mixture of relief and lingering fear. Beside her, Will Kriss, his blue eyes radiating a quiet strength, piloted the ship through the chaotic space battle. The Force dyad they had ford during her daring rescue still thrumd between them, an invisible cord connecting their minds and emotions. It was this connection, this shared vulnerability forged in the crucible of danger, that ignited a spark within Riyo, a desire she couldn’t deny.
"Thank you, Will," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "You saved ."
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