“I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.” 

The words filled Hitch Ranagan’s head loudly, but somehow, hushed. 

“I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.” 

He fought to clear his mind. To let go of his surroundings. 

“I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.” 

     The loud hum of the ship’s engines, the rattling of the loose panels on the compartment walls. They all blurred in his mind. Ever so faintly, he spoke the words. “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.” 

     The ship was coming into port. Its repulsors roared. Hitch could feel every bolt in the rusty transport tremor beneath him, but he silenced it all. He whispered again. 

“I am one with the Force… and the Force is with me.” 

     He sat there on the dingy floor of the compartment. His eyes closed. Fighting to keep his concentration as if any movement whatsoever would scare his calm away, he ever so slightly lifted his hand and extended his fingers, then slowly opened his eyes. On the ground before him was his most prized belonging. 

     As a Ranger of the Republic, Hitch had to travel light. Always on the move from one assignment to another. Hopping freighter, to transport ship, to freighter, the young man didn’t have a lot of personal possessions. He couldn’t afford to. But this? This he cherished. 

A lightsaber - weapon of the long-extinct Jedi knights. 

     His fingers gently reached towards it. He exhaled and spoke again, hoping to not just say but mean each word. 

“I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.” 

The lightsaber sat there, no more than two feet away. Motionless. 

     Hitch had found it while on a mission in the Western Reaches. It sat amongst a pile of rusted scrap, barely distinguishable amongst its surroundings, but Hitch knew. Having grown up hanging on every word of the old Jedi stories; dreaming that he’d one day find a way to be one of the famed protectors himself, Hitch recognized it immediately. It was covered in rust and the circuitry was practically non-existent, but when Hitch slid apart the shoddy casing, his heart leapt. There in the small, weathered chamber of grime, sat a green kyber crystal. Its hue faded, but its structure intact. 

     Hitch grew up a scavenger in the junkyards of Ord Mantell and if there was one thing his years of scrounging for scrap had taught him, it was the art of repair. For months, he toiled away on his newfound treasure. Every second he could spare, every moment of downtime between assignments, was devoted to restoring the weapon of old. The custom-built emitter, the modified power cell, every circuit, dial and node installed with the utmost precision until, at long last, the lightsaber was operational. There was no ceremony in the moment, but when the blade first flared to life with its low hum and steady green glow, a surge of excitement swelled within Hitch’s chest. He had done it. For the first time in who knows how long, the lightsaber was reignited, and with it, Hitch’s dream. 

     Hitch’s brother, and fellow ranger, Lonzo Ranagan scoffed when he first saw the completion of Hitch’s efforts. 

     “You’re better off with a blaster, brother,” Lonzo would say. "Without the fancy Jedi moves to back it up, that thing's nothing more than a glowing stick." 

     Hitch disliked being mocked, but knew his brother was right. If there was a trait that defined Hitch Ranagan, however, it was that he refused to be discouraged. With the same determination poured into constructing the weapon, Hitch taught himself to wield it. The alleys of Ord Mantell had made him no stranger to combat, and his stint as a Ranger of the Republic had certainly provided opportunity to polish his skills. In less time than it would take most, he had mastered the lightsaber. It was a part of him. Forged with his spirit and tempered by trial. The only thing Hitch couldn’t seem to do… was summon it. 

“I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.” 

     His focus narrowed. His hand trembled. There was no dingy compartment, no clunking transport ship. There was only himself and the saber. 

     “I am one with the Force and…” With a screech, the compartment door slid open. “Wakey wakey, Brother! We’re here!” 

In a blink, Hitch snatched the lightsaber off the ground and stuffed it in his duffel before Lonzo could see it. 

“What the hell you doin’ on the floor?” Lonzo asked. 

Hitch’s answer was short. “Resting.” 

     Lonzo sighed with amusement. This wasn’t the first time he had caught his brother in this type of meditation, or whatever it was that Hitch chose to call it. But he also knew his brother well enough to know that it wasn’t a topic he was keen on discussing, so he moved on. 

     The rangers shouldered their duffels and exited the compartment. The corridor was filled with passengers of every shape and size, equally eager to disembark. 

     “You know, if Command keeps shipping us off to every corner of the galaxy like this, a rest is exactly what we’ll need! And soon!” said Lonzo. 

     Hitch looked back at his brother and smiled. “You never know,” joked Hitch. “This could be one of those lofty assignments. Observe-and-report type stuff.” 

Lonzo laughed. “My brother the optimist.”

___

This story was created for entertainment purposes only and is not intended for commercial use. All Star Wars characters, settings, and concepts are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd. and The Walt Disney Company.