The jungle of Yavin IV shimmered with heat and mist as a silver ship touched down near the Rebel base. Princess Leia stood waiting, arms clasped behind her back, the pale light glinting off her rank insignia. Beside her, C-3PO fussed with a loose joint, muttering about humidity and heroics.

When the ship’s ramp lowered, Leia’s gaze sharpened. “So this is the one the Force whispers about,” she murmured. “The neutral.”

C-3PO straightened, photoreceptors glowing bright. “Oh, how fascinating! I do hope we’re not expecting any… mystical turbulence?”

Leia allowed a small smile. “Let’s hope not. The Rebellion can only handle one kind of chaos at a time.”

Thunder rumbled across the canopy — deep, unnatural. C-3PO tilted his head, circuits humming uneasily. “I have an awful suspicion that was not thunder.”

Leia’s hand drifted to her blaster. “Then it seems you arrived right on time,” she said quietly, eyes still on the trees.

The jungle fell silent — and somewhere within it, the Force stirred.