The same vision of my death replays in my mind—Ruinok, once again, stabbing me. This time, even through the excruciating pain, I notice something new. The sleeve of my right arm is gone, and metal begins to replace flesh, stretching from my shoulder down.

  I jerk awake, gasping for breath. The visions are always intense, but I’ve learned to handle them better with time. Still, the familiar weight of dread lingers, like a dark cloud that refuses to dissipate. It’s suffocating. Unavoidable.

  "So, I lose an arm at some point along the way," I mutter, rubbing my hand through my hair, frustration bubbling up. "Probably to that same Sith-spawn."

  "Who's to say?" Xanthe’s voice echoes in my mind, calm and matter-of-fact. "Life isn’t about the destination, but the journey."

  "Is there even a point to all this madness?" I huff, trying to shake the images from my mind.

  "Maybe that’s for you to decide," Xanthe responds, like a calm breeze sweeping over a storm that I can’t seem to quiet. Her words seem too simple for something so complicated.

  "I've been dragged around outside of my control by Force users like you who can see the future—and then there’s Retra's mother," I complain, letting the weight of it all settle heavily on my chest.

  "What are you implying?" Xanthe feigns offense, though I can sense the subtle amusement hiding underneath her usually calm tone.

  "I needed to kiss the girls to give them the antibodies? Why? When we could just absorb the infected cells through our fingertips. That means we could have done the same with giving them the antibodies. Or did you think I’d never figure that out?" I snap, the irritation in my voice louder than I intended.

  Silence fills my mind.

  "That's what I thought," I mutter, irritated that this continues to feel like a game that I can’t control.

  Xanthe speaks again, her voice softer this time, more measured, as though weighing her words carefully. "How do I explain... that just because we create possibilities for you doesn’t mean we’re necessarily taking choice away from you?"

  "Who asked you to create possibilities for me, anyway?" I shout, my patience now completely frayed. "I didn’t ask for any of this!"

  I feel a mental sigh from her, a wave of resignation mixed with a hint of sorrow. "You did."

  "When did I EVER ask you to?" My voice is sharp with disbelief, frustration boiling over.

  "Not in this timeline. You, in the future—or I guess a version of you that’s now just a possibility—pleaded with me. Knowing your past self might..." Xanthe trails off, almost as if she’s unsure of how to explain it to me, unsure of how much I’m ready to hear.

  I wait for her to continue, my mind racing. Finally, she finishes, her words carrying a weight I wasn’t prepared for. "Of living your journey with them to the fullest. To have gotten to love freely, without the fear that stops you."

  "Fear?" I scoff, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "You think I’m afraid?"

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  "Yes, fear," Xanthe responds, more firmly than before. "You fear not meeting expectations, being rejected by Teya, losing your friendship. You fear many things, and in your fear, you fail to act. You fail to open your heart until it’s too late. A fate you’ll someday see is much worse than death."

  "What do you know about attraction, romance? You’re just a plant," I complain, the words slipping out without thought.

  "Let me ask you one thing," Xanthe’s tone grows serious, cutting through my frustration. "In your vision that we’ve shared, created by you with my Force power, where are the girls?"

  A cold sweat runs down my spine. I hadn’t seen either of them in that vision. Ruinok had mentioned a Jedi, and I’d assumed it was Teya. But what if it isn’t her? Where’s Retra?

  A sick feeling washes over me, a realization sinking in like a lead weight in my stomach. The idea that my death in the vision isn’t the worst part... Now that thought terrifies me.

  I leap out of bed, panic seizing me. I need to talk to them. I have to understand what’s happening before it’s too late.

  I hit the comm button, my voice shaky. "Teya, are you and Retra at the helm?"

  The comm system beeps with a response. "Yes, we’re here. What’s up?"

  "I need to speak with you both, I’m on my way," I say, my words barely containing the panic rising in my chest.

  I rush down the corridor, my footsteps echoing, the dread growing heavier with every step. I finally reach the bridge and hit the button to open the door. When it slides open, Retra stands alert, her expression unreadable. But when she sees it’s just me and not some threat, her posture relaxes.

  "What in the Outer Rim has got you so worked up?" she asks, arching an eyebrow.

  "I haven’t been telling you both something," I say, cutting her off before she can say anything else.

  Teya turns from her pilot chair, her eyes filled with concern. "What is it?"

  I take a breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "Ever since I became connected to Xanthe... literally connected, I’ve been having visions of myself dying. Every time, I’m killed by that same Ruinok we’ve encountered."

  "He’ll have to get through me first!" Retra hisses, her eyes flashing with anger and determination.

  The weight in my chest sinks deeper. "That’s the thing, Retra. Neither of you are anywhere near me. It’s like... you’re both already gone," I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper, but the fear is undeniable.

  "Gone where?" Teya asks, her voice soft, then realizing what I mean, she freezes. "No..."

  "Ruinok mentions a holocron and a Jedi. It could be you, Teya, but..." I trail off, unsure if my gut feeling is right or if I’m just grasping at straws.

  Silence fills the bridge as they both process what I’ve just said.

  "So, what now?" Retra asks, her tone still hard but tinged with concern.

  "We find a place where even a Sith Lord can’t find us," I say, forcing myself to think clearly despite the fear clouding my mind. "Maybe there's a world with a natural magnetic field, a Force anomaly that can shield us from him. One that’s hidden from technology."

  “That... is very rare, Roan,” Teya says slowly, the weight of the situation settling over her. “Such a world would have to be undiscovered and invisible to all technology.”

  I think loudly to Xanthe, knowing she’s listening. “You know where it is, don’t you?”

  There’s a brief pause before Xanthe’s voice enters my mind again, this time tinged with uncertainty. “Not exactly. This moment in time is blocked out by a power greater than mine. But I sense a vague direction of where we’re supposed to go.”

  Reaching over to the console, I input the directional information Xanthe gives me. "This way."

  "For how long?" Teya asks, her voice soft, but there’s an undercurrent of fear.

  I shrug. "A long time, but we’ll make it before we run out of resources."

  "Fantastic," Retra mocks, flashing a grin. "I could use a vacation from old red tentacle face."

  "Pfft," Teya laughs at the childish humor, a welcome break from the tension that’s settled over us.

  I sit down beside Retra, my body still heavy with anxiety, but she places a hand on my leg. It’s a small, reassuring gesture, but the touch lingers. I try to ignore the warmth that creeps up my spine at her proximity.

  "Don’t worry, Roan," she says softly, her voice full of quiet promise. "I’ll always be by your side."

  Xanthe’s voice chimes in, her tone smug, "Oh, and Xan, no more secrets. I won't tolerate any manipulations. Just tell me if a future version of myself has a message or something."

  I feel her mental eye-roll. "Fine. You’re no fun anyway."