Tatooine's weather is murder, the Empire's hunting Jedi like mynocks, and somehow I - a half-retired, half-broke tech scavenger named Rhea - just dragged one of them bleeding out of a crashed starship into my living room.
Now the stormtroopers are knocking, the droid's swearing in Binary, and the guy with the lightsaber won't stop flirting.
All I wanted was to stay off the grid. Instead, I'm neck-deep in galactic drama, hauling a half-dead Jedi through outlaw cities, fixer deals, and the not-so-glamorous underbelly of Coruscant. There's danger, betrayal, explosions, and yes - the occasional awkward almost-moment with a guy who definitely shouldn't be my type. No Jedi on Jedi making, right?
But this isn't a love story.
This is survival.
Who am I fucking kidding...