One more turn at the next hallway, and he'd be there.

This was it. No going back now.

Stay cool, stay cool, stay cool, Luke thought over and over again, as he entered cell block AA-23, staring at the uniformed officers who stopped what they were doing to watch him approach. Many of the guards, upon seeing the masked figure of an ordinary TIE pilot, went back to what they were doing, pretty much ignoring him. Luke wasn't sure what possessed him to wear the TIE pilot gear over his normal officer's uniform…but as he'd been scrambling for a plan to get the princess out of there, he'd felt that it was needed for some strange reason. Whatever. He didn't question it. He just did it, and it was sweltering hot under all of the layers, though. He could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck and down his spine. The control officer stood to attention, looking down his nose at Luke, as if he was his superior or something. "What is your business here, pilot?"

Luke swallowed, his hand tightening on the object behind his back, hearing its soft beep. "Ensign Lars, reporting for duty, Sir!" He said it with more confidence than he felt.

The control officer blinked at him, and the disdainful expression made it obvious that he thought Luke too stupid to waste his time on. "Does this look like a ship bay to you?!" He demanded, sarcasm dripping with his every word.

"Oh," Luke stammered. Just a few seconds more…if he didn't time this just right… "Do you think, ah, Sir, that you could give me directions?"

The control officer rolled his eyes. "You're new here. Clearly. Go back down the lift and…"

Something inside of Luke, the same thing that told him he needed to keep his last name secret, the same thing that told him to stay unnoticed, the same thing that told him to escape now and run with the princess…it seemed to slam into him all at once with the need to throw the beeping object. So, Luke abruptly threw the grenade, with all his might, into the midst of the guards, and then jumped back, pulling the blaster from his belt as the grenade exploded, killing the guards. Luke immediately began firing, killing the last few guards who had been in the hallway, before shooting out the remaining cameras in the room. His ears rang as silence fell upon the cell block, and he was left alone with the dead men…that he'd just killed. His heart sank into his stomach—he'd just killed. Not just one person, but multiple people. He'd never done that before…Sure, they talked about it in training, tried to prepare them. But, killing people…his own comrades…

Well, he thought as he hurried to the control panel and checked to make sure the grenade hadn't triggered the alarm system on the panel, guess there's no turning back now. Pleased that the alarm hadn't been set off, he quickly pulled up the list of prisoners…only to find that the princess was the only one in the entire block. # 2187. High security, indeed. He turned and raced down the hallway, checking cell numbers as he went.

2187….2187….21…there! He reached down and pressed the switch, and the door hissed open to reveal the princess. He rushed in…and paused, just staring at her again, he was hit with the overwhelming sense that he knew her…somehow. Not from the whispers of his squad mates. Not from the brief glance they'd shared in the hallway. He knew her personally, in a way he couldn't describe. He just knew it. She was lying down, her hair still somehow pristine despite everything she must have gone through, but when he entered her cell, she raised her head up, staring back at him, as if waiting for what he was about to do. Finally, she moved her arm to her hip, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you a little short for a Stormtrooper?"

"Huh?" Luke asked, puzzled for a moment, before he remembered. "Oh, the uniform." He quickly reached up and pulled the black helmet off of his head, setting it aside for the time being. He stepped forward, staring her right in those familiar dark brown eyes. "I'm Luke…" he paused. Still in the Death Star. If this went wrong…no one could know. "Lars. I'm here to rescue you."

The princess looked even more puzzled, as recognition lit her face. She slowly sat up, as if she were expecting this to be a trick. "You're who?" she asked, then, "Wait...You're…the soldier. From the hallway."

So, she remembered him. Good. "I'm here to rescue you!" He said earnestly, trying to get her to understand how little time they had to get out of there and somehow deactivate the tractor beam and then steal a ship….Shit, he was in so much kriffing trouble. How could he be so reckless? "Look, we don't have much time!"

The princess gave him a skeptical look. "Turning against the Empire, are you? Do you even have a plan for getting us off this ship?" Luke tried to keep the uncertainty off of his face, but she noticed anyway. "Some rescue this will be."

"Look, I'll say I'm transferring you to another cell and…" but even as he said it, he knew it was a stupid idea. Come on Skywalker, he thought, glancing at his helmet, think! But, as he looked at the helmet, an idea suddenly struck him. It was still mad, a suicide mission, but somehow, as he began stripping off the black armor, he knew it would work.

"Um, excuse me, but what the hell do you think you're doing?!" The princess demanded, obviously alarmed that some strange stormtrooper had just burst into her cell and begun stripping.

"Calm down, I have my uniform under this." He said, and threw the helmet towards her, which she caught, staring at him like she'd never met anyone quite like him in her life. She probably hadn't. "Look, if you want to live, here's the plan…"


What the hell was that?, she thought in alarm.

They'd both gone down like a slaughtered rancor! For no apparent reason. Rushing forward, she hovered over her unconscious husband, now lying on the floor, glancing at the older Jedi with grave concern.

"Ani? Obi-Wan? Ani!" Padme's voice cried through the haze of pain and shock coursing through his head. Anakin opened his eyes slowly to find Padme hovering over him, pale, looking between both him and Obi-Wan, who had collapsed in a seat, a hand over his chest, looking as dazed as Anakin felt. "What's wrong?" Padme asked when she saw that Anakin was coming back to his senses. One second, he'd been talking quietly with Padme and Obi-Wan, the next...this.

Still, though he was now back with reality, he couldn't shake the horrible yawning emptiness left by the Force. It was smothering, and he could hardly breathe as he said, "Something...something terrible has happened."

Padme paled further, and her hands went to either side of his face, as if checking to make sure nothing had happened to him. "I felt a great disturbance in the Force," Obi-Wan agreed, his voice dark and troubled, "As if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I too, fear something terrible has happened."

"What is it?" Padme asked wide-eyed, looking between Anakin and Obi-Wan, "What could have happened that would cause you both to react like that?" Her voice was full of fear: Never before had she seen Anakin or Obi-Wan act like this. She'd seen Obi-Wan's reaction to the Jedi purge (or she vaguely remembered it), but this...was different, somehow. It did not bode well.

Obi-Wan shook his head, putting his head in his hands. "I don't know, but I'm afraid we're about to find out." Padme gave another worried look at Anakin, and though he wanted to reach out and tell her things would be okay, he couldn't do so with confidence. Whatever had happened...there was no words to describe the enormity of the consequences that were to come. That he was sure of.

Suddenly Han rounded the corner from the cockpit. "Well, you can forget your troubles with those Imperial slugs. I told ya I'd out run 'em." He sat down beside Obi-Wan, a confident grin on his face, totally oblivious to what had just occurred in the main cabin. He waited, obviously expecting them to be jumping for joy, but when the three of them continued to be somber, he muttered, "Don't everybody thank me at once." He glanced to where Chewie and Artoo were playing a match of Dejarik, Threepio looking on. "Anyway, we should be at Alderaan at oh-two hundred hours."

Ever the senator, with her notions of paying proper respect to those who deserved it, Padme gave Solo a senatorial, diplomatic smile. "Thank you, Mr. Solo…"

"Mr. Solo?" Han snorted. "Honey, Mr. Solo was my father. Han is fine. Or, Solo, if you prefer."

Padme inclined her head apologetically. "Right then, Han, thank you for helping us out. We really appreciate it."

"And, don't call my wife, 'Honey,' Solo. Her name is Padme," Anakin snapped from his place on the floor, turning his head to shoot Han a pointed look.

Han raised his hands in an apologetic gesture, "Sure thing, Pal. Sorry, won't happen again."

Suddenly, Chewie roared in displeasure, drawing their attention to the game at the table. "He made a fair move," Threepio chidded, "Screaming about it can't help you." Chewie continued to moan complaints.

Before Han could jump in, Anakin responded, almost absent-mindedly. He didn't feel like repairing a droid at the moment, and even if he did, there wouldn't be time for it. "Let him have it. It's not wise to upset a Wookie, Threepio."

Threepio turned to Anakin. Had Threepio remembered his past, he probably wouldn't have argued, "But Sir, nobody ever worries about upsetting a droid."

This time Han was quick to point out with a sly grin on his face, "That's because droids don't pull people's arms out of their sockets when they lose." Threepio jumped a little at that, obviously nervous now, turning to look at the Wookie who had his powerful furry arms behind his head, pleased with Threepio's reaction.

"Wookies are known to do that." Anakin agreed, and he couldn't help but smile a little. Same old Threepio...he never failed to bring a smile to his face.

"I see your point, Sir," Threepio said, and leaned forward to Artoo, "I suggest a new strategy, Artoo: Let the Wookie win." Chewie roared in agreement.

That got Padme to laugh, which made Anakin's tension ease just a bit more. "Oh, but Artoo is quite the resourceful droid. I'm sure he'll be just fine."

"Yeah," Anakin agreed, "I can't tell you how often that little droid has gotten me out of some tough situations." Artoo beeped happily, his dome spinning left and right in agreement, and continued his game.

Han was looking between the droids and Anakin. "You're familiar with Wookies?" He finally asked, curiously.

"Yes." Anakin nodded. "Though not personally. I...knew some friends who went to help their cause on Kashyyyk during the Clone Wars."

Oops. Wrong thing to say. Both Han and Chewie stopped what they were doing to stare at him, and both Padme and Obi-Wan sighed. "Friends?" Han echoed, "You're a little young to remember the Clone Wars, aren't you?"

"Yes, but he can have friends who served in battle then. It's not a crime." Obi-Wan cut in smoothly. "I myself remember those days quite well."

Han didn't quite seem satisfied with that answer, and Chewie rumbled something to Han. "Nah. Couldn't be Chewie. They're long dead." Suddenly, (thankfully, depending on how one looked at it), the ship's computer began to beep. "Looks like we're coming up on Alderaan." Han sighed, getting up and going back to the cockpit, with Chewie following closely behind.

"That was close, Ani," Padme whispered, as soon as they were gone.

"It's almost like you've never kept a secret in your life." Obi-Wan agreed, amused. "But, I know that isn't the case."

Anakin scowled. "Keeping a marriage secret is one thing. Keeping my identity secret...that's another issue altogether."

"Yes, well, you'd best get practicing on that." Obi-Wan smiled, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. Anakin opened his mouth to reply...but suddenly, as the ship jumped out of hyperspace, it began to rock violently. Padme yelped, and Anakin caught her to his chest as she lost her balance. His eyes met Obi-Wan's, communicating the same thing: Alderaan did not have an asteroid field around it. Could they have jumped into a battle? Had the Empire known where they were going? "I think we'd better check on what's going on." Obi-Wan commented dryly.

"Yeah," Padme agreed shakily, and Anakin held her hand as they rushed to the cockpit.

Sure enough, asteroids were pelting the ship. "What's going on?" she demanded, staring in awe at the meteor shower surrounding them.

"Our position is correct, but…" Han looked around, as if the planet would appear out of thin air. "No Alderaan."

The bad feeling in the Force instantly grew stronger, and Anakin and Obi-Wan glanced at one another in alarm. It couldn't be...how could…? Padme voiced the thought, sounding confused as they all felt: "What do you mean? Where is it?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. It ain't there." Han was checking the readouts desperately. "It's totally been blown away."

"What?!" Padme exclaimed, looking to Anakin and Obi-Wan in dismay, "How?!"

Again, Obi-Wan and Anakin shared a look. "Destroyed," Obi-Wan finally said gravely, "By the Empire." Anakin met Padme's eyes, and he saw the understanding light up in them, and she gulped. The feeling both he and Obi-Wan had felt...millions, maybe billions of deaths in the Force, all at once. All innocent. Including Leia's adopted parents, Bail and Breha Organa.

Han turned to Obi-Wan, protesting even though he knew the truth of it. Anakin saw it in his eyes. "The entire starfleet couldn't destroy a whole planet." He argued, turning around to look at the readouts again, "It would take a thousand ships with more firepower than I've…" More beeps from the computer, and Anakin's frown turned into a scowl. Ship. Incoming. "There's another ship coming in." Han said, saying what Anakin already knew.

"How much do you want to bet they aren't friendly?" Padme said dryly, her brown eyes full of worry. Anakin squeezed her hand tightly, wishing he had his starfighter. He hated being at the mercy of another pilot, in a ship he wasn't familiar with.

"It's an Imperial fighter." Obi-Wan confirmed, and Anakin reached out with his senses, confirming that it was indeed...a ship owned by a hostile presence. He wasn't familiar with this particular ship model. But, as it came into view and he was able to get his first good look at the strangely bow-tie shaped ship, he was able to identify exactly what kind of ship it was.

"It's a short range fighter." He said urgently, "Which means it's home vessel must be around here somewhere."

"But, if there aren't any bases around here, where did it come from?!" Han demanded, and Anakin found himself agreeing with the pilot. Maybe they were in good hands after all.

They followed after the ship. "It sure is leaving in a big hurry," Padme huffed, giving Anakin a look before looking to Han. "If they identify us, I assume you're well aware of the trouble we'll be in."

"You know it, sister." Han muttered, "But, not if I can help it. Chewie, jam their transmissions."

"It would be as well to let it go, it's too far out of range." Obi-Wan said, and Anakin sighed. Ever the one to ask questions first, shoot later.

Han opened his mouth to retort, but Anakin beat him to it. "No. We can't risk getting followed by any more trouble. He's right."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and gave him an exasperated look. "Ever the one for aggressive negotiations." They continued to chase it, and as the seconds trickled by and there wasn't any sign of a larger ship, Obi-Wan glanced around and said, "A fighter that size couldn't get this deep into space on it's own."

"So, where did it come from?" Anakin muttered in agreement, stretching out with the Force.

"Doesn't matter," Han said, about to lock onto the fighter, "He ain't gonna be around long enough to tell anybody about us."

Suddenly, the ship swerved, and Han maneuvered the ship closely after it. "Look, it's heading for that small moon!" Padme said, pointing out the circular object they were fast coming up upon. "But...Alderaan doesn't have a moon."

Han ignored her. "I think I can get him before he gets there; he's almost in range."

But suddenly, both Anakin and Obi-Wan straightened, their eyes going wide, as they both felt an impending sense of danger, coupled with the life force of thousands...no, at least over a million people. "That's no moon," Obi-Wan breathed, eyes wide, "It's a space station."

"Space station?" Padme had gone pale at those words. "Oh Force...What has the galaxy come to…?"

Han shook his head. "It's too big to be a space station." He continued flying the ship towards the object.

Anakin was sure Obi-Wan was right. Nothing else would explain this feeling he was getting. And, Padme was right-what the kriffing hells had the galaxy turned into in the last nineteen years?! And, this was the galaxy his children had grown up in, without them...What had they left their twins to? "I have a very bad feeling about this," he said, looking to Han. "Turn the ship around." He didn't know why his voice sounded as calm as it did. He felt anything but calm. His twins were in danger, and now so were they...and his wife was there, too. She would share whatever fate they did...and he somehow didn't think this battle station would take kindly to two Jedi, two smugglers, and a supposed-dead senator.

Han was now staring at the station as if he too couldn't believe his eyes. Good to know battle stations this big weren't normal. "Yeah," He muttered, "I think you're right." He began trying to turn the ship around, his hands flying over the controls. "Chewie, lock in the auxiliary power." Chewie roared in agreement...but it was too late. The ship began to rock as Han tried to turn it around, resisting the tractor beam that had already locked onto them...Kriff! They were still so far from the battle station… "Chewie, lock in the auxiliary power!" Han ordered again, sounding like he was trying to keep from panicking. Chewie groaned as he continued to try to lock it in.

"Ani," Padme said, and he could hear the actual fear in her voice. "There's got to be something…"

Anakin shook his head, but it wasn't noticeable since the whole ship was rocking. "With a tractor beam that powerful, there's nothing we can do, Angel."

Suddenly Han reached up, shutting off power. "They're not going to get me without a fight!" He declared, glaring at the offending battle station as if his look enough was going to blow it up. But even Anakin wasn't that crazy.

"You can't win," Obi-Wan spoke Anakin's thoughts to the smuggler, leaning forward. "But there are alternatives to fighting."

"Isn't there...I don't know, disguises? Something we could use to hide?" Padme asked. She was leaning into him now, and Anakin instinctively put his arm around her, pulling her close, though he was still staring at the station as it got closer and closer, completely obstructing the view of the viewport.

"Yeah," Han said hesitantly, obviously not liking the idea of not standing his ground and fighting for his ship. Anakin could understand that...but even he knew a lost cause when he saw it. "Get the droids and follow me."

That was how, as they were brought into the station's hangar, Anakin found himself in a small enclosed space underneath the Falcon's floor plates, crammed so tightly, that even though Padme was securely safe in his arms and her breath tickled his cheek...he was quite uncomfortable, his legs bent at the knees. And, in the dim darkness, he could see the pained expression on his wife's face as well. She wasn't comfortable crammed in here either. But, as the ship landed and they listened to muffled military announcements over a loudspeaker, no one said anything. Anakin wondered how Obi-Wan was doing, crammed in with Han and Chewie in the space next to them, and the droids were in the space next to that one. In one hand, he had his lightsaber, clutched tightly as they listened to the blast door open, and footsteps overhead marching through the Falcon. Padme's breath hitched, and they both breathed so softly, not wanting to accidentally make any noise that would alert them to their presence.

It seemed like it took hours. Hell, it sure felt like it did. By the time they heard the footsteps leave the ship, and he sensed that the troops outside were starting to thin out, obviously not as interested now that there weren't any readily available prisoners to apprehend, Anakin's joints felt like they'd solidified. When he reached up and moved the plate away, finally letting in fresh air again, he felt stiff and sore. "It's lucky you had these compartments," Padme whispered, as Han also moved his plate, poking his head out, his blaster in hand.

"I use them for smuggling." Han said absent mindedly, looking around as if he were expecting troops to jump out and yell 'surprise!' "I never thought I'd be smuggling myself in them." As Obi-Wan poked his head out from the same hole, Han added hotly, "This is ridiculous. Even if I could take off, I'd never get past the tractor beam."

"He's right." Anakin agreed, helping Padme out of the compartment before he climbed out after her. Han's eyes strayed to the lightsaber in his hand, and Chewie mumbled something.

"Leave that to me." Obi-Wan said, and Anakin glanced sharply at him. It wasn't like they were young again...wait. No. He was young. Obi-Wan wasn't. He couldn't be taking on stupid, dangerous missions anymore.

"I'll do it." He said.

"No!" Obi-Wan and Padme said at once, and Obi-Wan added in exasperation, "I just spent nineteen years looking for you. I'm not about to let you throw all of that away for an old man. You're too important, Anakin." Anakin scowled, about to protest, but Padme put a hand on his arm...and he remembered that, yet again, this wasn't just about him. This was about making sure Padme was safe...and staying alive long enough to get to their children. But letting Obi-Wan go…

"You'd better come back." Anakin warned, giving Obi-Wan a mock glare. "Or, I'll have to haunt you for eternity."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. "Pretty sure that's not how it works."

Chewie nudged Han, who made a face. "There's plenty of people with that name." Anakin winced, realizing that Obi-Wan had just revealed who he was to the smuggler. Obi-Wan, however, wasn't as careless as he was-if he said his name in front of the smuggler, it was for a reason. Though what that reason was, Anakin didn't even pretend to know. "You're a damned fool though." Han said, looking at Obi-Wan as he jumped out. "I knew you were going to say that."

Obi-Wan smirked, though it didn't touch his eyes. "Who's the more foolish? The fool, or the fool who follows him?" He said as he too climbed out.

Again, Chewie moaned to Han. "Now isn't the time to talk about who is who." Han muttered.


I can do this. No problem. Piece of cake.

He hoped.

Luke strode towards where he knew the tractor beam switch would be, striding with more confidence than he actually felt. Act like you've done nothing wrong, he reasoned over and over in his mind, and no one will assume you're guilty. At least, that's what he hoped would happen. He'd never done anything so reckless and...well, stupid in his life. And yet, he felt good about it. Better than he had since he'd entered the Imperial Academy. Which, he thought, was crazy. How could he feel so good after he'd taken lives? After he'd betrayed what he'd sworn to serve? After he escaped, he'd be a wanted criminal, hunted across the galaxy no doubt. He'd have to go into hiding. He'd try to contact his aunt and uncle, of course, let them know he was alright-and that he was so, so sorry. They deserved that much, even if it would be risky to contact them again.

But, he'd worry about that later, he decided. Right now, he had to disable the tractor beam, and then make his way back to…

He paused, noticing that the same group of Stormtroopers were following him. At least...that's what it looked like. They could have been merely patrolling the halls, and he was just being paranoid. Yes. He must be paranoid. If they had discovered that the princess was gone, they'd have put the entire station on alert, and he hadn't heard anything over the loudspeaker, or on his comm. Though, he had switched comm channels…

Was it just him, or were there more Stormtroopers in this hallway than usual?

Calm down, Luke, he thought, trying to soothe away the increasingly bad feeling that was threatening to overwhelm him and make him panic. He couldn't afford that. The princess couldn't afford that…

But yes. Yes, there was definitely more Stormtroopers than usual...and they seemed to be narrowing in, boxing him, trapping him in. They know, he realized, that bad feeling becoming one of absolute doom. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath.

He wasn't going to make it. But...the princess still could.

He took a deep breath, knowing he had seconds, for as soon as he did this, the Stormtroopers would pounce. He swallowed the bile rising up in his throat...and quickly pulled the comm out. "I'm compromised. Run, get off the station, don't look back."

As he predicted, the moment he pulled out the comm, the Stormtroopers made their move. "Halt!" They shouted, and all of a sudden, he had multiple blasters on him. But, he wasn't done. He had to ensure her safety. He feigned surprise, forcing himself to trip, the comm "accidentally" falling out of his hand, and he pretended to scramble for it...and stepped on it instead, crunching it into pieces. "HALT!"

Luke forced an expression of confusion, and terror, on his face, as he raised his hands innocently. "What's the meaning of this?" He demanded, his voice shaking. He wasn't sure if that would help him...or ruin his chances of talking himself out of this.

"On your knees!" the Stormtroopers ordered, closing in around him. Luke swallowed thickly, wondering if there was possibly any kriffing way out of this by force...but he was completely surrounded. Hell, he didn't even have his blaster on him. So, slowly, he got down on his knees, and the moment he did, they closed in on him, shoving his hands behind his back roughly, before securing him with cuffs that cut into his skin.

"Ouch!" he complained, "Watch it! What's the meaning of this?! I haven't done anything!"

"Shut up!" One of the troopers said before putting his blaster to his head. Luke wasn't stupid. He shut his mouth, swallowing nervously. This wasn't looking good...but they weren't hauling him off to a detention cell yet. Why? If they knew what he'd done...wouldn't he be immediately dragged there? Or worse...killed? But, they just waited, blasters trained on him, as if...waiting. He got his answer not five minutes later, as the Stormtroopers suddenly parted...and Grand Admiral Thrawn approached, standing tall as ever, looking down his blue nose at him, his glowing red eyes filled with...not anger, or outrage. But instead, mild curiosity...and triumph?

"Ensign Lars," Thrawn greeted, as if he'd walked into his office to discuss flight patterns over a cup of tea. "You disappoint me. You are much too predictable."

Kriff. Kriff, kriffing, kriff! There was no talking his way out of this. He was kriffing screwed. Though he knew this,somehow his composure didn't crack. Well. At least he didn't start admitting to what he'd done, what he planned to do. "Grand Admiral," he said, and his voice sounded legitimately surprised-because he was. "What...I don't...what's going on, Sir?" It was a struggle to remain respectful of the man. He had literally watched as a planet full of innocent people was destroyed...just because the prisoner the Empire happened to be interrogating was a rebel, and the planet's princess. Luke was again filled with sickening disgust. No, he'd done the right thing...even if he was now going to face the music. But how did Thrawn…?

Thrawn's lips twitched into a knowing smile. "It would seem that our prisoner, the Princess of Alderaan, has mysteriously disappeared. Do you know where she might have gone, Ensign Lars?"

He knows. He's toying with me, he thought in dismay. "N-no, of course not." Luke stammered, "I was returning from the fresher…"

"Please, there were multiple freshers you could have used closer to your barracks." Thrawn cut him off, giving him a disappointed look, as if he were at least hoping for a better explanation. "You're much further outside of your jurisdiction than you should be. On your way to the tractor beam, if your trajectory is any indication."

"No, Sir." Luke said, and he legitimately sounded confused. "I wouldn't assist rebel scum. I'm loyal to the Empire."

"A charming sentiment, but a false one." Thrawn said, raising his hand. For one moment, Luke thought the man was going to slap him, but instead he beckoned an officer trailing him forward, who handed him a data pad. "You see, Ensign Lars, it wasn't just your abnormal test scores during your training that made you stand out. It was your feigned lack of interest in the prisoner."

Luke frowned, legitimately confused now. "Um. Sir?" He asked, hesitantly.

"You see, while your squad mates and other troopers not directly involved in her case were consistently expressing a healthy dose of curiosity in our celebrity prisoner, you were almost obsessively not interested. According to your superior, you expressly seemed to avoid participating in any discussion about her. Either you truly had personal issues with the princess, or those from Alderaan, or you felt bad for the princess, and in an attempt to not look like a rebel, you overcompensated by avoiding the topic of the princess as much as possible. But given that you're from Tatooine, and, if your intake paperwork is true, from a small farm in the middle of the wastelands, it was highly unlikely that you would harbor any previous ill will towards the princess and her people. Thus, it's the second option."

"Or, perhaps I don't like rebels. Period." Luke pointed out.

"Perhaps." Agreed Thrawn, as if he were making pleasant conversation over an unimportant and yet controversial topic. "But, you have also been attempting to avoid running into me as much as possible. So, that doesn't make sense, because, obviously, I am not a rebel."

Luke swallowed. "Of course not, Sir."

"But, you are clearly not a rebel. Forgive me, but you're not exactly infiltration material, so you wouldn't have joined the Imperial Navy had you been a Rebel spy. But, of course, you could have been contacted by a Rebel spy within the academy. But that also doesn't make sense, because your decline in scores happened immediately upon entering the Academy." Thrawn cocked his head, studying Luke. "So why, I wondered, were you acting this way? The answer, Ensign Lars, came today, when Alderaan was destroyed."

Luke swallowed, thickly. "I wasn't feeling well."

"So you claim." Thrawn agreed, "And, there may be truth in that...though not in the traditional sense. You see, while a normal operative harboring rebel sympathies would have been understandably upset at having seen a planet be destroyed, you lost consciousness-or close to it. Again, it would have made sense had you had friends and family destroyed on the planet...but we've already established that simply isn't the case, having come from Tatooine. When you left, I knew where you were going-the destruction of Alderaan had made the decision you've been wrestling with since you joined the Academy for you: Desertion."

"What?" Luke protested, his voice dry. "No...Sir, never…"

"But, you weren't going to go alone." Thrawn interrupted again, pulling something up on the data pad, before showing it to him. To Luke's horror, he saw himself in the footage of the entry room to the cell block, talking to the guards, before throwing a grenade. And, while he was wearing his TIE gear, and his face was covered, it wouldn't take much for Thrawn to have the footage analyzed, and his voice would be matched to the voice of the TIE pilot in the video. Worse-he introduced himself to the guards, which...was pretty damn incriminating. The feed cut off as he shot out the cameras, and Thrawn handed the data pad back to the officer. "That is most certainly you." he cocked his head. "I expected you to rescue the princess...but I did not expect you to separate from her. Let alone give her your uniform." He glanced down at the shattered comm link. "I assume you contacted her when you noticed you were being followed."

He waited for Luke to object...but this time Luke didn't do so. "Where is the princess, Ensign Lars?" Luke remained silent, and this time just glared at the Grand Admiral. When it was apparent that Luke wouldn't answer the question, Thrawn sighed. "No matter. Even disguised as a TIE pilot, we will find her. All units are already on alert." Again, he cocked his head, examining Luke curiously, as if he were an interesting piece of art rather than a captured traitor. "I'd like to know more about you. Specifically, about when you knew you were Force sensitive."

Luke blinked at him. That was unexpected...and he had no idea what the hell the man was talking about. "Force...sensitive?" he asked, and this time he wasn't pretending.

"Ah," Thrawn caught on, "You don't know. How interesting." He frowned. "Still, you are hiding things from me, Ensign Lars, and I fully intend on finding out what those things are." He looked at the Stormtroopers holding Luke hostage. "Take him to the detention center. I will join you shortly."

Despite knowing the risks, despite still not regretting what he'd done for the princess, Luke couldn't help the panic that rose up. He knew what would happen. He'd been trained on how to resist torture tactics just like the ones the Empire used on its prisoners-and he was sure that for a trained soldier, they would have something special in mind. But, as the troopers pulled him to his feet and began escorting him back towards the detention block, he could find no way out of it. Again, he thought back to his aunt and uncle, and the warnings they'd given him. He wished he'd listened. If only he could go back in time and change things...but he couldn't.

The one consolation he had in all this was: At least the princess was safe. At least he'd warned her. If she was safe...for some reason, he felt it was worth it.


Dun, dun, duuuuuun! So, Leia is wandering the halls of the Death Star in TIE pilot gear. Obi-Wan is heading to de-activate the tractor beam, and Luke is getting hauled off to prison. I figured Thrawn being there, he'd cause some...problems. The guy is insanely smart, and I'm excited for his next book coming out in a few months...cuz I love me some Thrawn.

The song for this chapter is Luke and Leia's theme (Return of the Jedi), and The Death Star/The Stormtroopers (New Hope).

Review!

Love,

Sarah