Private Where Control Slips

[Lumiya Dara]

The shift in the wreck came just before she reached the opening. Not a collapse. But settling. Lumiya felt it through the frame beneath her feet, through the subtle change in pressure along the metal that no longer threatened to give way quite so sharply. The structure wasn’t just being held now, it was being guided into rest. She didn’t question it. She used it.

The light met her again as she stepped through the breach, the last survivor held carefully in her arms. Her movements remained measured, deliberate, every step chosen with care as she carried them clear of the hull and into the open air. Only once she had lowered them beside the others; gentle, precise, ensuring their position would not worsen what had already been endured, only then did she allow herself to pause. A breath was taken. It was small and controlled. Then she looked back. The wreck no longer felt like something about to fail. It felt….contained. Cradled, just as he shaped it. The sharp edge of urgency that had driven every movement until now began, slowly, to ease.

“They’re all out,” Lumiya said softly. Not loudly. Not as an announcement. Just truth, offered into the space between them.

Her gaze lifted then, finding him as he moved closer. Not with her eyes alone; but with that same quiet awareness that had guided her through the wreck. The pressure of what he held was unmistakable now, not overwhelming, but vast in a way she did not try to measure. “You held it,” she added, quieter still. Not surprise. Not praise. But recognition.

Her hands remained where they were for a moment longer, adjusting the position of the last survivor, checking their breath, grounding them with a light, steady touch before finally withdrawing. Only then did she rise. The motion was unhurried, though the weight of what had just passed lingered in the slight delay between intention and movement. When she stood fully, there was a faint sway that was barely there; but she steadied it with a slow inhale.

His words reached her then. You have done good. Lumiya didn’t answer right away. Her gaze drifted - not away from him, but past him - for just a moment. To the survivors. To the wreck. To the canyon that had nearly taken all of them. Then it returned. “…they’re alive,” she said softly. It wasn’t a deflection. It was what mattered most.

A small pause followed before she added, more quietly still: “That’s enough.” Her hands came together loosely in front of her, fingers still, as though uncertain what to do now that there was nothing immediate left to hold. “…we should treat them,” Lumiya continued, her voice regaining that gentle, practical steadiness. “Before anything else.” It was not urgency. Nor fear. It was just the next step. And this time she didn’t hesitate to take it.

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

She spoke and was able to move finally. With the safest ones there now as he let the ship go to focus on the survivors. Finding a place to kneel before he was moving. Her small sway had him moving to aid her but he didn't grab her as much as remain there and hold her up if she needed it. She moved though and spoke as he bowed his head. "I am not much of a healer, I am better at striking things but I do know how to transfer enough force energy to keep a team going when we are in combat." He said it but he was drawing from the living force and the power of the world itself as he channeled it itno his hand offering the energy as it rippled along his palm and forearm. "I am also skilled with direction for using it as needed."

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The absence came the moment he released the wreck. Not abrupt. Not jarring. But noticeable. The pressure that had filled the space; steady, immense, and unwavering, receded into something quieter. The ship remained where it had been set, settled now into the sand as though it had always intended to rest there. Lumiya felt the difference. And adjusted.

Her attention did not return to the wreck. It remained where it belonged now; on the living. She had already begun moving between them when he spoke again, her hands finding purpose without needing to search for it. A dressing secured here. A position corrected there. Small things. Necessary things.

When he knelt nearby, she glanced toward him. Not fully, but enough to acknowledge his presence without breaking the rhythm of what she was doing. His words settled easily. Not as explanation. But as truth.

“That helps,” Lumiya said softly. There was no hesitation. No uncertainty. Her gaze shifted briefly to his hand as the energy gathered there. Not with awe, not with confusion; but with quiet understanding. She didn’t try to measure it. Didn’t try to match it. She simply made space for it.

“There,” she added gently, guiding his attention. Not with command, but with quiet precision, as her hand hovered over one of the more fragile survivors. “This one.” Her fingers rested lightly against the patient’s shoulder, grounding her before she continued. “She's fading,” Lumiya said, her voice lowering, steady but soft enough to hold calm rather than urgency. “Not from injury alone. She's slipping.” A small pause followed as she looked up at him properly this time. Not asking. But trusting. “If you can steady her,” she continued, “I can do the rest.”

Her hand remained where it was, her touch light but unwavering as she anchored the patient in place; her presence already working in the quiet ways she knew best. Breath. Stillness. Reassurance. “You don’t need to force it,” she added, softer still, as though sensing the scale he was accustomed to. “Just….keep her here.”

Her gaze flickered briefly to the others; spread along the sand, injured but alive, fragile but holding, before returning to the one beneath her hand. Then, without waiting, she began. Not dramatically. Not visibly. But with that same quiet, careful intent that had carried them this far. And for the first time since the crash the work shifted from surviving to healing.

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

He gave a nod as she was directing him towards the one. THe jedi master looked down and spoke for a moment. "Focus on me." He said it to the woman laying there and his hand was guided down as he pushed and focused on the force going into her. He breathed in and then outwards, the energy going along her body and he would see it in his senses as he controlled where. The muscle and sinew, bone and blood vessels to improve much of it. He could channel more and more into her body to help it stabilize and repair itself. He understood the basic idea for when he accelerated his own healing after combat. Sometimes during but he also used that because he needed to keep going. "Stay with us."

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The shift was subtle. But it was there. Lumiya felt it beneath her hands before she saw it in the woman’s breath; the way it steadied, just slightly. The way the fragile thread she had been holding no longer felt like it might slip free at any moment. She didn’t interrupt him. Didn’t redirect. She simply followed where he created space. Her touch adjusted, fingers light against the woman’s shoulder and collarbone, guiding without pressure as the body beneath her responded; not fully, not healed, but no longer falling. “…That’s it,” Lumiya murmured softly, her voice low and even, meant to anchor rather than stir. “Stay with him. Just like that.”

Her eyes remained on the patient, but her awareness widened just enough to include him; not measuring what he was doing, but aligning with it. Where his strength reinforced, she refined. Where his energy stabilized, she softened the strain it left behind.

The woman’s breath caught once. Then settled. It was not strong. But it was present.

Lumiya exhaled slowly. “…She’s holding,” she said quietly. It was not spoken relief. Not yet. But something steadier. Her hands shifted then, transitioning without pause into what came next; securing, supporting, easing the body back into something it could maintain without constant intervention. “You can ease off,” she added gently, not looking up this time. “I’ve got her.” There was no dismissal in her tone. Only trust returned. Her movements remained careful as she continued; adjusting the angle of the woman’s position, reinforcing where needed, ensuring that what had just been given wouldn’t be lost the moment it wasn’t actively held. Only when she was certain did she allow her hands to still. Just for a moment.

Then her gaze lifted. Not far. Just enough to take in the others. Alive. All of them. A quiet breath followed. “…Thank you,” Lumiya said softly. Not as formality. Not as habit. But as acknowledgment. A small pause settled between them before she spoke again, her voice returning to that gentle, practical cadence that carried her forward. “We’ve stabilized what we can,” she said. “But they won’t hold like this for long. Not without proper care.” Her gaze drifted briefly toward the dunes, toward the direction the danger had come from - and might still return from - before settling again. “We need a signal,” she added quietly. “Something that can be found.” It was not urgency. Nor fear. Just the next truth. “And we’ll have to keep them alive until it is.”

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

He eased back a little and remained there as she spoke. "A signal." He said it and gave a nod of his head. One hand going to his belt as he slipped out the emergency beacon. "My ship, Alema can get here quickly, we have some medical bays though not certain how many it can hold. It usually it only taking care of me." He said it with a look on her face though while he was bringing the force to himself and sending it back out to the others around himself. He could push the force into them with the guidance she had given and focused himself. 'Alema' He said it into the force for his ship to get it to feel him, the force spirit tied to it something he had communed with for nearly a decade and it hunted him any other time.

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The word lingered between them for a moment. Signal. Lumiya’s gaze followed the movement of his hand as the beacon emerged, small against everything that had just happened. For the first time since the crash, something inside her eased. Not safety, not yet; but direction. Something beyond simply enduring the next moment. “A ship…” she repeated softly, almost to herself.

Her attention lifted again as he spoke of it; of medical bays, of reaching them quickly. The faint exhaustion still resting beneath her composure did not vanish, but it shifted into something steadier. More manageable. “That’s enough,” Lumiya said gently. “They don’t need comfort right now. Just time.” Her gaze moved across the survivors once more; the rise and fall of breathing, the uneven stillness of injured bodies resting against sand and fractured metal. Alive. Fragile. But alive.

When his focus turned inward again; toward something unseen yet familiar to him, Lumiya felt the change in the air around him. Not dramatic. Not violent. Just connection. Ancient and quiet in a way she did not fully understand, but instinctively respected. She didn’t interrupt it. Instead, she moved among the survivors once more, settling blankets from abandoned emergency kits beneath heads and shoulders, checking dressings, adjusting limbs so injuries would not worsen while they waited. Her hands had regained their rhythm now; no longer driven by immediate panic, but by sustained care.

Only after a few moments did she speak again, her voice softer beneath the hum of the desert wind. “How long?” she asked quietly. Her gaze drifted briefly upward toward the dunes glowing beneath the lowering suns before returning to him. “If your ship can reach us before night fully settles,” Lumiya continued, “then I think they’ll make it.” A small pause followed before she added more quietly still: “And so will we.”

Tag: Syn

 

[Syn]

Lumiya Dara

He gave her a look as he nodded. "The Alema should be able to be here quickly." He said it while staying there and set the beacon down. The signal going out and the voice coming. "I have your signal master Syn." The small display showing the vague figure of a woman, something simple but the spirit of the ship preferred something closer to her original form. "We need a pick up and medical space." He said it but only looked at the jedi who was there with him. The figure seemed to be looking. "Did you hurt yourself again?" It asked but the ship was small and fast, designed to get around. "I have your location, moving in just don't die or disappear."