The lights flickered, bringing a quick sequence of pitch black and blinding white in the cockpit.

This was not a good sign.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Brisha muttered under her breath.

Deft fingers danced over the controls; but nothing could stop the Kite's Wing from puttering before flying dead in space.

Thank the Force it occurred in between jumps. The ginger Knight had no inclination to be stranded in the depth of hyperspace.

"I regret to inform you that engines are," the voice of the freighter's AI crackled before turning to silence.

"Damn it."

Knowing there was nothing more she could do from the pilot's seat, she got to her feet and made her way towards the engine room.

At least, there would be no smart talk from the AI while she diagnosed the issues.

Her fellow Jedi and she had been on their way to the Outer Rim, to help an orphanage with Force potentials; but it seemed they would have to take the long way to get there, much to her chagrin.

She stopped by her friend's door, rasping her fingers against the metal.

"Domovoi?"

He had retired to his quarters to meditate a while back, and she hated to interrupt; but she had learned a long time ago that asking for help was a sign of humility and could also accelerate processes.