“Now for this,” Stellan said, turning the shield pommel-side down beside the aide. It looked roughly the right size.

“The right size for what?” Maramis commented, and Stellan realized that he must have been talking out loud. Maybe his head injury was worse than he’d imagined. “Lord Jedi?”

Stellan didn’t respond. Instead he reached out with the Force, lifting Quo as gently as he could onto the shield. Like the splint, the makeshift stretcher wasn’t ideal, but it would allow them to move Quo without inflicting more damage … hopefully.

Placing the bandolier of drugs on Quo’s chest, Stellan quieted his mind as much as was possible. He raised both his hands, and the shield rose haltingly with them. The effort made Stellan want to throw up, but he knew he had to remain strong. If his concentration wavered, even for a moment, Quo would come crashing down for a second time, and no amount of Nihil stims would help him.

Stellan pushed up, feeling the shield rise into the haze.

“That’s it,” a voice called down from above. The chancellor, safe from her ordeal. “You’re doing it, Stellan. We nearly have him. Keep going.”

Stellan focused on her words and the encouragement of the other survivors who leaned out to grab the shield as it came into reach, lifting Quo over the edge and onto the platform.

Stellan waited, not releasing his influence until he was sure that the aide wouldn’t roll from the shield, not until he’d heard that Quo was safe on board. Then and only then did he relax, his knees buckling. He pitched forward, Maramis rushing to catch him before he fell.

“Stellan.”

“I’m fine,” Stellan told him, grabbing the captain’s arm gratefully. “The Force is with me.”


Star Wars The High Republic The Rising Storm Chapter 43