For a month she never left the ship. Depression hit her hard and she mostly lay in the bed staring at nothing in particular. Jarron softly tried to get her to go out, taking her hand and force sharing the scenery. It was a beautiful, tropical planet and they were next to the ocean; he thought if he could just get her out there to sit awhile each day it would help her. She continued to refuse until Jarron just grew wary of it and one day simply picked her up out of bed and carried her out to the ocean. She hardly protested, too weak to put up much of a fuss, but growled the entire way out with what little energy she had left. He plunked her in the middle of the beach, went back and got all the pillows he could carry and made her comfortable as he could and then sat down next to her.
"We are going to have this out sooner or later," he said. "How did I end up on the ship with you?" he asked. She rolled her head over and looked at him as if he were dumb.
"I dragged you there," she said.
"You? Dragged me? Your foot was broken off and your arm twisted and broken. Let's not forget you only have one good eye now as well. How did I get on the ship with you?" Jarron asked again.
"I couldn't leave you there. I knew you were the only one that was ever going to help me if I decided to live. I used the force a lot that day." She answered quietly; seemingly exhausted at the few replies she had given me.
"How did you get away?" he asked a few moments later. She sighed and closed her eyes.
"I fought." Evil said.