The agent collided with him, and there was a brief feeling of familiarity. It caught him off-guard, and he stumbled. By the time he regained his footing, the agent was pushing away, and the feeling receded.

It had been the smallest, briefest spark of the Force's power. Still distant, still twisted, but it was there.

He took the agent by the wrist, and the sensation flared again. "Until you adapt, you will accept guidance." There was no negotiating this. He needed the contact.