“Where’s Denis?” Senza asked, before losing her grip and sliding toward the water herself. Bell reached out to her, but the remaining Cyclorrian got there first, grabbing hold of the hood of her borrowed robes. She jolted to a halt, the Cyclorrian’s hand squeaking along the wet metal as it desperately tried to hold both their weight. All the time, Senza was repeating her question: “Where is he? Where’s Denis?”

Bell wished he knew. He’d hoped the attendant would swim back up, but there was no sign that either Denis or the Cyclorrian was even still alive.

With a bark, Ember dived into the water, disappearing headfirst. Bell yelled after her, but the dog was already gone, bubbles breaking in her wake.

Bell looked up at the cascading water, raising a hand to shield his face. There was no way any of them could climb to safety, but he wasn’t about to let these people drown in the dark. He thought of Indeera sealing the hole in his Vector during the shipyard attack, using debris from the ship itself. Could he do the same? Surely not. Indeera had years of experience on her side, and what was he: a Padawan who tried to cut himself off from the Force so others wouldn’t see how much he was hurting?

No, that wasn’t it, was it? He hadn’t shut himself off to hide away. He had done it because he was afraid of what he’d find if he stretched out into the Force. Or rather what he’d miss—who he’d miss—but now he didn’t have a choice, not if these people were going to live.

Bell closed his eyes, imagining himself reaching down into the water, feeling its chill against his arm, his fingers brushing against the metal that had formed a barrier. He could sense Denis and the Cyclorrian, trapped in the tangle of bent metal, Ember scrabbling to get them free. All three were running out of air. He needed to act now. He needed to believe.

The Force is strong.

Bell pulled the wreckage toward him. Senza gasped in surprise as hull plates and metal beams erupted up from the water, whistling past the young Jedi to slam into place above his head. Now Bell pushed up, crushing the detritus together, wedging it into place. Less water ran down into the corridor. Bell started again, repeating the process, more wreckage bursting from below to plug the gap above. The downpour became a trickle, but the layers of metal, thick though they were, creaked ominously. The seal was holding, but the pressure was building by the second.

The Force is sure, he told himself, not letting go. It will never let us down. We are …

One thought crystallized in his mind, the truth that had evaded him for so long. The truth everyone had been trying to tell him.

We are not alone.