"No," he breathed, closing the distance between them in few long strides. Shrugging out of his coat, he draped it around her, the motion unusually clumsy, his hands lingering on her shoulders only as long as they needed to. "You're not dead," he answered firmly. "You're not. Palpatine is dead. You're alive."

His jaw worked, his throat tight as he looked away from her.

"I don't know why we're here. We aren't the only ones. There are others, pulled here from the far reaches of the universe. They call it Darrow. I thought of it as a prison, but..."

He shook his head, his throat clearing.

"We should find someplace warm."