Strike, parry, dance, jump— In midair Leia’s mind whirled in a hurricane of calculation and instinct, sliding over each action seconds before her body caught up. The Force felt like liquid nitrogen in her veins, so cold it burned. She could hear her heart in her ears and the thunder of her breath echoed inside the canyon of her skull. Some part of her, detached from the fight, knew that the effort she was expending was going to be felt in the morning, but right then that didn’t matter. She felt powerful, driven, ten feet tall and stronger than a Wookiee. * * * She couldn’t wait to tell Jag.