Luke had not known that he possessed the ability to sleep in an Imperial cell. The cell's lone piece of furniture, a metal cot, was not comfortable, even by Luke's rather low standards. It took him quite a while to find a position where breathing did not hurt his neck. And the climate control at the base was apparently set on "Ice Planet."

His day, however, had been tumultuous enough that once he'd managed to get somewhat comfortable, Luke had fallen asleep almost at once, and he dreamed very little until the end of the night.

"Ben?"

The ghostly figure didn't answer. Luke could just make out its roughly humanoid shape amid the mists.

"Ben?"

He broke into a run, but the mist impeded his progress as if he was running through deep sand. The figure ahead didn't seem to be getting either closer or further away.

"…Father?"

A sudden harsh metallic clanging scattered the mists, and the figure began to break apart-

Luke shot awake to realize that the door of his cell had slammed open and Darth Vader was standing just beyond it.

It was not a pleasant way to wake up.

-

"And so, Chew- um, Chewbacca, is it?"

The Wookiee responded only with a glare. The Wrielon shipyards contact chose not to respond, if he even noticed.

"If you'll follow me out here- and this is a door, see, it's made of transparisteel-"

Apparently the man had also not noticed that- what felt like hours ago- Chewbacca had come in though the same door, but that seemed to be par for the course. The important thing was that this meant they were headed for the ships, finally, and that meant Chewie would get to leave, and the sooner he got to do that, the less chance he would decide to kill this man from orbit.

Following the man out of the "magic transparisteel door," (which was incredibly substandard in quality), Chewbacca soon got his first close up look at the ships the Rebellion was getting out of this.

They were worth it.

To the unpracticed eye, they looked rather battered, and the ion cannon was old enough to still feature a Republic logo. The landing gear on the ship furthest to the left was warped badly, and all of them were liberally covered with rust and insect webbing- a sure sign that they hadn't been out in space for a while.

But to Chewie, who frequently voluntarily entrusted his life to the Millennium Falcon and knew that one couldn't judge something just by outward appearances, they had all the signs of being able to hit the Imperials hard. With enough fighter backup and that ion cannon, they'd probably be able to take on a star destroyer.

And with that secure, he could return to base and see how much of it Han had destroyed in his absence.

This trip was looking up.

-

The city was no longer deserted.

It certainly couldn't be called thriving, not with what the Empire had done to it over the years, and the way the scattered citizens walked, eyes tuned on the streets below them, reminded Han of Mos Eisley when the Hutt was in town. But there was at least life. Some of that life was, of course, two stormtroopers per corner, but that was rather a minor problem.

Han was a smuggler, and Leia helped lead a Rebellion, and both of them knew more than enough about walking just unobtrusively enough that the Empire wouldn't bother them. Someone slipping from shadow to shadow with dramatic arm movements stood out- a couple strolling slowly down the street, hand in hand, was just comprised of two more people who hadn't been able to get out of Theed.

They were hand in hand.

It had seemed only natural. To be honest, what had seemed really natural to Han at the time was "just keep kissing," but finding Luke before they died took precedence over having a desperate fling before they did.

Holding Leia's hand was solid.

They weren't going to lose anyone else out here.

-

Leia squeezed Han's hand. She wasn't sure why she was still holding on to it. She wasn't a child, needing some big stuffed toy to cling to. She wasn't a teenager, either, falling for the bad boy without a second thought.

What she was was Han's friend, and Luke's friend, and she wasn't going to give either of them up without a fight.

Han squeezed her hand back, leaning his head over with a carefully blank expression.

"The base is around that corner, to the left," she hissed, having finally gotten his attention.

The smuggler nodded tightly, clearly insulted. "Your lead, Your Worship."

They'd discussed this a little bit before heading out (it was a much safer conversation topic than attempts at holodrama reenactments). If the base was built along standard Imperial lines, there would be a back door just around from the loading area. It typically wouldn't be as heavily guarded, due to supposedly being a secret, and with luck and a few good shots, Han and herself would probably be able to take down the guards and get into the building.

Then they just had to find Luke, and get him out past however many troops were there, plus Darth Vader.

And this was assuming that her feelings weren't delusions and that Luke was even still alive.

But it was far, far too late to back out now.

-

All things put into due consideration, Luke recovered quite well for a Tatooine farmboy pilot awoken by a Sith Lord.

If he's my father, maybe he won't kill me.

That thought, while it allowed him to calm his breathing, was in all even more alarming than goingtodienowgoingtodienowgoingtodienow. It meant he was admitting that there might have been some truth in what Vader- and the Force- both of whom were liars- were telling him. It meant that he was making a critical mistake and assigning human emotions to an Imperial killing machine. And it meant he was considering not doing anything else that would give the Empire a reason to kill him.

After several seconds- or possibly years- of Luke staring and trying to fit all this together, Vader finally spoke.

"You do not know who you are."

This was true.

"You are not Luke Lars, or whatever else that traitor told you."

This was also true. And if Vader knew everything, well, Luke was going to risk something. For his real father.

"No," he agreed. "I'm Luke Skywalker."

"You are my son," said Vader, as if this would erase everything.

I was once a Jedi Knight, the same as your father.

Anakin worked on some freighter outta Mos Espa.

I don't remember your mother, Luke.

Padmé Amidala was a great woman, Commander Skywalker.

"I'm Anakin Skywalker's son," Luke repeated, willing it to be true.

But he knew that it wasn't.

And the new chapter's up! See y'all next week!

Smiles! Lou.