Snow and fire danced together across the skies of Hoth.
Kai's X-wing tore through the clouds, engines screaming in protest against the cold air and heavier gravity of the atmosphere. His canopy was streaked with frost and smoke, but he flew like it wasn't there — his eyes half-closed, body moving as if led by something deeper than sight.
The Force flowed through him now — not in bursts, but in streams.
A TIE bomber descended toward the western ridge, angling for the shield generator. His astromech screeched a warning, but Kai had already felt it: the way its trajectory cut across the ground troops' fallback line. He snapped the X-wing into a brutal dive, rolling beneath the bomber's line of fire. In a fluid motion, his gloved hand flicked the trigger — and twin bursts of red light lanced through the bomber's undercarriage.
It exploded in a blossom of flame and metal, crashing into the snow with a bone-shaking thud.
Kai didn't wait.
Another pair of TIEs swept in from above, flanking like hunting raptors. He didn't need radar to sense them. He felt them — the static edge of their aggression slicing through the Force like knives.
He pulled hard left, evading the first volley by a meter. A second barrage came screaming in, but with a motion more instinct than calculation, Kai cut the throttle, twisted the ship in an impossible spiral, and came out behind the attackers.
His own fire cut the second TIE clean in half.
"You're pushing limits," the specter of Naga Sadow murmured from somewhere deep in the corners of Kai's awareness. "This is the edge of your vision. Feel beyond it."
Kai did.
He exhaled, and the world slowed.
The screams of comms chatter faded. The hum of his engines softened. He could feel the blood rushing through the gunner of a distant speeder. The anger of a downed stormtrooper firing blindly into the snow. The presence—flickering but growing—of Luke as he led Rogue Squadron in desperate strikes against the AT-ATs.
And then—
A cold presence. Heavy. Ancient.
Far above the battlefield, aboard the Executor, Darth Vader stood at the observation deck, watching the engagement unfold in real time through the viewport. His gloved hands tightened behind his back.
There was something… new.
He closed his eyes.
The Force around Hoth boiled — not just from Skywalker, who burned with the same raw, reckless light as before. But from another — less blinding, more balanced, more… familiar. A touch that was both honed and wild.
"A shadow," Vader whispered, breath rasping. "But not one of mine…"
He turned to the nearest officer. "Deploy more fighters. Now."
On the surface, Kai pulled his X-wing into another tight maneuver, dodging laser fire as it streaked past. Down below, the walkers still marched — implacable, monstrous. One of them began to shift direction, angling toward the medical bay's entrance.
"Luke, that one's redirecting! Too close to the evac route!"
"I see it," came the strained reply. "Trying to reroute with cables, but we're losing ships fast!"
Kai didn't hesitate. He dove again, laser fire carving into the walker's upper armor. It wasn't enough to stop it, but it drew fire away from the speeder teams — just long enough for Luke to make his run.
As his targeting computer locked onto a vulnerable seam in the walker's armor, Kai whispered under his breath, eyes glowing faintly violet.
"Just a little closer…"
He fired. The blast struck precisely at the neck joint, already weakened from previous hits. The walker shuddered, paused — then collapsed sideways, crashing into the snow with a thunderous roar.
Kai surged upward again, banking away.
The sky was alive with battle, but for the first time in a long time, Kai didn't feel like he was trying to survive it.
He was part of it — like lightning riding the storm.
Luke's speeder rocked violently as a blast from the advancing AT-AT slammed into its wing. The alarms shrieked. Smoke filled the cockpit.
"Rogue Leader down!" came a voice over comms. "Repeat, Rogue Leader—"
The speeder slammed into the snow, metal screeching and shearing as it skidded across the frozen ground. Luke barely unstrapped himself in time. He threw the hatch open and rolled out just before the massive foot of the walker came down—crushing the ship where he'd just been.
He coughed, blood in his mouth, the sting of cold air burning his lungs. But he was alive.
Up above, Kai felt it.
His breath caught in his chest as Luke's panic flared in the Force, followed by pain, and then—resolve. Kai's grip on the controls tightened. He activated his comm, tuning to a private frequency.
"Han. You there?"
There was a crackle, then Han's voice, sharp and tense. "Yeah, I'm here. You see what's happening up here? We're getting buried alive."
Kai's eyes flicked to his scanner. The AT-ATs were still pushing forward, and the main blast doors wouldn't hold much longer.
"Forget the fight. You need to make sure Leia gets out of here. Now."
Han didn't respond right away. The silence said enough. Then—
"Understood."
At that very moment, deep inside the base, Darth Vader stepped off his shuttle, flanked by a squad of black-armoured troopers. The halls of Echo Base echoed with distant alarms and scattering boots. Fear rippled ahead of him like a wave.
Kai felt it enter the battlefield like a knife sliding between ribs.
He opened a secondary channel.
"Luke," he said, focused and calm, "you've done enough. Get to your X-wing. There's nothing more to win down here."
Luke, panting, dragging himself through snow, looked up at the distant figures of Rebel soldiers falling back.
"I—got it," he breathed, turning back toward the escape paths.
Kai shifted course and blasted toward the main hangar bay, dodging debris and fleeing transports.
The Millennium Falcon was powering up. Han and Chewie worked the controls, frantically preparing for takeoff as ground crews shouted over the noise. Leia stood near the boarding ramp, giving last-minute directions to an officer—her voice calm despite the chaos.
Kai's X-wing skidded to a halt just meters from the Falcon, his landing rough but controlled.
The ramp hissed open.
He jumped down, already pulling off his flight suit mid-run, revealing his lighter, combat-ready tunic beneath. His saber hung at his side.
Leia saw him first. "Kai—"
He stepped up to her, expression unreadable.
"You need to go. Now."
"I'm not leaving without—"
"There's no time." He glanced toward the hangar entrance. In the Force, he could already feel Vader's approach—like a glacier made of obsidian, slow and unstoppable.
Leia's hands balled into fists. "You can't do this. You don't have to stay—"
"I do," he said gently.
Leia reached for him again, but before she could speak, his hand flicked. The Force flowed like a whisper — and her eyes fluttered, then closed, her body going limp.
Kai caught her.
Han stormed down the ramp. "What the hell did you do?!"
"She'll be fine in a minute," Kai said, lifting her into Han's arms. "But if she was awake, she wouldn't leave."
Han's jaw tightened as he looked down at her.
"She's going to hate you for this."
Kai smiled faintly. "She already does."
Han didn't laugh, but he nodded. "You'd better not die. She'll kill you herself."
Kai turned toward the hangar entrance, stepping away from the Falcon as the wind howled louder.
"I'll buy you the time."
Han disappeared up the ramp, the ship rumbling as it began to lift off. Kai stood alone now, snow and smoke swirling around him, the heat of the hangar rapidly bleeding away into the cold.
He closed his eyes. Centered himself.
The metal floor thrummed.
The blast doors had fallen.
And Darth Vader stepped into the hangar.