Hi! I've taken a bit longer for this chapter, mainly because of final exams rearing their ugly heads :/ That probably means that I'll take a bit more time to update, because my top priority is my future, not on fan fiction, and the teachers aren't exactly conservative on the amount of homework they assign. Just a warning, though; some days I'll write a lot, some I'll write very little.

Also, this chapter feels a bit choppy, even to me. Whether that's just because I'm used to writing from one POV fluently or not, I don't know, or if this would just be portrayed better on film or something, but I do switch from scene to scene, POV to POV rather quickly. Any narration that isn't from Holly's point of view is third person omniscient for convenience.

Also also, I must give a heap of thanks to Sardhrantor, who pointed out that I'd been starving Holly for a while now. I'm a terrible person, not realizing it, and I feel immensely stupid for forgetting it, so the advice that Sardhrantor gave was invaluable! I've gone back and added something to chapter five. You don't have to read it if you don't want to-basically, she just eats some really nasty alien food. That's all.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, obviously. I wouldn't ever be able to pull of something like that.

Chapter 12:

The voice of the officer sounded as though it were transmitted through an old 1960's radio as he spoke. "We've ascertained a refugee hiding in an air vent."

Holly wasn't surprised; through a helmet that thick, the man inside the armor probably wouldn't be heard at all. Hell, it must have nearly been as thick as his skull! Truthfully, she didn't know if this man suffered from cretinism or not, Holly just enjoyed insulting people who caused her trouble, and she'd hazard a guess to say that she was in pretty big trouble now.

"Good work," praised his commander, speaking through a radio as well, though she could tell that the sound was coming from a different source, some other transmitter. To her, they both sounded nearly identical. She wondered, perhaps, was this because of the radio transmission, or did they all adopt the same manner of speaking? It must have been a military thing; one drill sergeant sounded indistinguishable from the next, for example. (At least, they did in the movies.) "Is it one of the spotted?"

"Undoubtedly," affirmed the trooper. He nudged Holly rudely and harshly in her shoulder with his gunpoint, herding her through the corridors of the Millennium Falcon.

She cowered forward, striding on wobbly knees with her proverbial tail between her legs. She blanched, feeling the threatening metal against her tensed shoulder blades. Holly was certain that she could feel how cold it was, even through the three layers of clothing she wore.

"It's the young woman who was reported to be with the others at Mos Eisley," he continued, striding behind her, loud and prideful as his footfalls brought sharp clasps of terror jolting down her spine. Holly shivered involuntarily every time she slacked, for when her speed decelerated even by the smallest amount, the gun jabbed into her back once more.

"Were there any others?"

"Negative, sir," he reported. "The scanners turned up none other than her in the entire ship."

Holly struggled to suppress a sigh of relief, despite her dire situation; at least Han, Luke, and the others were safe. For the moment, at least. She would not have wanted her friends to suffer the same fate she would undoubtedly face, because although she was never the nicest person around, she did have some heart. And, over the past few days, Holly had to admit she had grown to care for her companions a surprisingly large amount.

She supposed it was just what happened when one is lost, found, saved (a bit—technically), lost again, then executed.

"Take her to the detention cells," commanded the officer.

"Affirmative."

Holly was directed by the gun to turn left, and she noticed the entrance was before them. They were leaving the Falcon, and she found, unsurprisingly, that she did not want to leave. It had been, perhaps, her only safe haven in this trash that was an existence, the only place she had known to be comforting in the slightest. The two of them reached the ramp, and Holly could not help but gasp when she saw what lay beyond.

The ship was in a huge docking bay. This was no exaggeration; being so close had, perhaps, changed exactly how she perceived this space station. Before, it had loomed in the distance as a very real and tangible threat, sort of like Cold War Russia. Now, however, it was personal; right there in front of her, it invaded her space and presently terrorized her by simply being. The lines of troops, each sporting weapons that could blow her brains out by the mere twitch of a finger, made Holly think that these were now more the Orcs to her Helm's Deep, or the Death Eaters to her mudbloods, rather than a distant threat.

She was within the enemy territory, completely defenseless with Death himself undoubtedly planning her imminent doom.

42.

(Begin third person omniscient.)

The heavy metal door slammed quickly shut behind Luke once he had run through the threshold into their temporary safe haven. The young man tugged off his helmet with fervor, shaking his head to get the blond hair out of his eyes. "You know," he snapped, "with his howling and your blasting everything in sight, it's a wonder the whole station doesn't know we're here!"

The man towards whom the chide was directed didn't look ashamed, as Luke undoubtedly would, had their positions been swapped. Instead, it only served to rally Han's enthusiasm, and Luke couldn't say he was particularly surprised. "Bring 'em on! I prefer a straight fight to all this sneaking around!"

"Oh, yeah?" questioned Luke, approaching him with a glare in his eye "And what about Holly? What'll happen to her when they find out the ship wasn't deserted because we're obviously here shooting everything in sight?!" He added that last for Han's benefit. "They'll re-search the ship and she's bound to be found!"

Han merely scoffed. "She's fine," he dismissed, waving a hand. "Trust me."

"Well, how do you know?" he demanded. It didn't seem that safe, just leaving her there, without any way to reliably protect herself. Luke doubted that she was an expert in disarming Stormtroopers, ill prepared as they were, and he was, quite frankly, very worried for her.

"Look, Kid," Han said, swiveling around to give him a pointed stare. "Do you really think she'd do something foolish or obnoxious?"

"Honestly? Yes."

"What a high opinion you have of her," he drawled.

"Oh, come on! You can't possibly say that she's safe at all! Running off to chase that stupid bug…." He trailed off in a grumble. He didn't seem too eager to contribute to their argument. If only she hadn't left the group, Holly would be there with them. "How could you know that she isn't lying dead now with a blaster shot to her heart?"He glanced at Old Ben for help, but he didn't seem too eager to contribute to their argument, merely content with watching with slight amusement. Luke was incredulous.

"I told her to hide," the smuggler before him pointed out. "She's not completely stupid; Holly wouldn't jump out and wave some blinking flag." Han saw the look of incredulity in Luke's eyes, the obvious 'seriously?' glance written all over his face. "The Falcon's a freighter; I wouldn't be flyin' it if it didn't have good hiding spots. We just got the best—she got second."

Outwardly, Han was calm. He was good at that, keeping a stoic expression. He had to be; running into officials and lying wouldn't do him any good if he could be read like a transmission. He had to be the best at bluffing, and that gave him enough practice not to be as worried as Luke now.

Inwardly, his mind rushed; what were the possibilities of Holly's discovery? It was only for Luke's benefit that he put on the false front. Han didn't know if it were easier or harder, thinking with this disguise, but he couldn't dwell on that.

To be perfectly honest, he really didn't know what they'd do to her. One of the things that worried him most was the unpredictability of anything that Holly did—she didn't know anything about the way this place was run, and even if she did, Han doubted that she would be able to talk or fight her way out of an Imperial encounter.

"Yeah, but what if second isn't good enough?"

"It'll have to be," Han drilled.

Han wished that he could reassure Luke—not to mention himself—that she wouldn't be found and executed. However, as he looked at the young farm boy, who just ran a hand through his hair instead of replying, his hopes weren't too high.

"We found the computer outlet, sir," the electronic voice of the protocol droid reached their ears, and all of them turned to look at him. He and R2 were stationed at the panels, analyzing the layout of the ship.

"Plug in," Obi-Wan ordered. "He should be able to interpret the entire Imperial computer network."

"The whole thing?" Luke asked in amazement, but before he could go on, R2 interrupted.

"He says he's found the main computer to power the tractor beam that's holding the ship here. He'll make the precise location appear on the monitor," translated 3PO.

The computer screen above them flickered as it projected the layout of the Death Star. Luke watched with interest as the viewpoint changed, focusing on one aspect that must have been the tractor beam. "The tractor beam is coupled to the main reactor in seven locations," continued the droid. "A power loss at one of the terminals would allow the ship to leave."

Ben studied the layout intently, focused on memorizing every useful detail. It could be done, with the proper ability….ability that only he had, as of yet. "I don't think you boys can help," he said, glancing back to Luke and Han.

"Whatever you say," Han agreed easily. "I've done more than I bargained for on this trip already."

Luke didn't think along the same lines. "I want to go with you!" he protested, eager to get out of the control room and take action. He felt like he would just be….vegetating, maybe, if he just stayed here.

"Be patient, Luke; stay and watch over the droids."

"But he can—"

"They must be delivered safely or other star systems will suffer the same fate as Alderaan," Old Ben reasoned. Luke was still reluctant to stay, reluctant to be useless. "Your destiny lies along a different path than mine. The Force will be with you….always!"

42.

The corridors were dark and sinister. It was a common theme that Holly seemed to find on the station; red and black were most often used when there was something that didn't have to be multi-colored and blinking. Usually, Holly had no aversion to those hues; now, however, she had a sharp dislike to the specific combination.

Now, could that have anything to do with the blaster pointed at her back?

Nah, impossible.

The trooper's methodical walking hadn't shifted one bit. Holly found herself breathing at every other footfall; it was like a monometer for each sharp intake. She didn't want to step out of line, she supposed, and irregular breathing might evoke an…unwanted response.

Basically, she tried to make herself as unnoticed as possible, despite the fact that she stood literally right in front of him.

Her hands were bound before her with a thin but strong bronze band, not exactly like the handcuffs of home, but similar. They were definitely less breakable; it didn't use a key to unlock, no—that would be too easy to escape from. Rather, Holly assumed it must have needed a laser for how impenetrable it seemed.

"Cell block BC-38," reported the trooper, as if she cared. He had been narrating their actions, it seemed, along their long and winding road to her death. In the elevators (Holly had called them turbo lifts in her head), he had articulated the floor of their destination, but for the life of her, Holly couldn't remember what that was. Then, when they strode down even more extensive hallways, he seemed hell bent on naming the exact title of the corridor as soon as they turned the corner.

It didn't help Holly to know where she was; all that mattered was that she was too far away from where she wanted to be (aka, her bed, in her bedroom, in her house, in America, on Earth, a long time from now in a galaxy far, far away).

They stopped in front of a wall. That was what Holly thought it was, at least; there seemed to be nothing different about this smooth sheet of metal, set in between two support beams. The only thing that set it apart from the others was a small blinking keypad on one side, set high enough to be eyelevel with the Stormtrooper.

The man's gloved and armored hand rose and activated the keypad with a series of movements that Holly couldn't quite catch. They were habitual, like unlocking a phone or logging in to one's email. That made Holly wonder….if this trooper could unlock something with just familiarity and speed, did that mean that they were used to capturing prisoners? She didn't suppose it was unlikely; this seemed like a pretty routine activity.

That didn't make it better.

"Get inside," ordered the trooper once the doors had opened. The room within was revealed to be nothing less than what she had expected—it was basically a perfectly hollow cube, save for one raised rectangular box near the wall that functioned as a rudimentary bed and a slightly angled wall segment above that. Basically, it was a perfectly hollow irregular octahedron. "Hurry!" he barked.

Holly stumbled forward on numb feet, fearing the solidly dark grey-black walls. She didn't like waiting for any length of time, ad ironically though it was, she certainly didn't like waiting now. She wondered if most people were eager to postpone what would undoubtedly be their death for as long as possible, but the only answer Holly came up with was that if those people existed, she wasn't one of them.

The trooper took something from his belt—it had been clipped on, though Holly didn't take the time to try and guess what it was. Something she'd probably never heard of, no doubt. He raised it to her cuffs and pressed a button, causing a harsh red light to emit from its point, shining on the bronze of the electronic bindings like a laser. They snapped open, and a harsh shove from the trooper caused her to stagger back into the cell.

The door slammed shut behind her once she was beyond the threshold. Holly stared at it, but the door was now a slight decrease in the surface of the wall, a minimal alcove with wiring along the sides. She assumed that there would have been paneling there, but they must not have wanted to waste resources on mere prisoners.

Figures. She wasn't just useless to herself and her friends anymore, but to the enemy as well.

Holly didn't sit on the 'bed' structure. Using anything for its intended purpose seemed like she was accepting her fate too readily; it was too tall for her to sit on with feet firmly planted on the ground, for one thing, and she wasn't tired enough to go to sleep either.

She merely slid down into the corner. She liked corners; the closed-in parts of rooms made her feet safest, as if the sides she touched were just a few more directions from which dangers couldn't come. Holly sat on the ground and tucked her knees underneath her chin, hugging her legs to her chest.

Her knuckles were white with how tightly she clenched her hands. She preferred that to shaking with fear, at the very least.

42.

The beeping of the short R2 unit over near the computers drew Luke out of his contemplative reverie. His head shot up as he swiftly made his way over to the droid, next to whom stood golden 3PO. "What is it?" he questioned.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite sure, sir," the droid replied. "He keeps repeating 'he's found them' and 'they're here.'"

"Well…." What did 3PO mean? "Who? Who has he found?"

"Capt-Holly and Princess Leia, sir." Luke noted the minor slip up. They were helping someone who had lied blatantly when she first met them, but now, it didn't really seem to matter that much. He just wanted his friend back and to rescue that princess.

42.

Holly's limbs were beginning to stiffen. She hadn't moved much since first she lowered herself to the floor, save for a few minor shifts in position or posture. Her muscles felt like they were solidifying more and more, moment by moment. She just pictured the blood in her veins and arteries stilling until they were completely motionless, coagulating underneath her skin. Her body would turn slowly to stone, and that lead to a grimly satisfying thought: maybe, if the Empire came to retrieve her, they would find that she was rock solid and immobile, they'd just leave her there. Shooting a statue would be pointless.

But she wasn't a statue. The loss of feeling that she had attributed to solidification in her sudden flair for dramatic simile turned out to just be her legs falling asleep.

Holly straightened her legs until they were flat as a board. Her black jeans were dirty now, stained with sand and grease that must have been from the ventilation shaft. Her hoodie had brown splotches on the front as well, where she had laid on her stomach. She was disgusting, filthy. Her hair and face couldn't have been much better. Regardless, the only thing that surprised her was the fact that she hadn't had to stop and tie her shoes once.

42.

"Terminated?!" Luke demanded incredulously. "Oh, no! We've got to do something! What about Holly? Does it say anything about her?"

"Just that she's been captured, master Luke," responded C-3PO. "It doesn't give her location, sir, or what her fate is to be. Apologies."

"What's going on?" asked Han. He obviously hadn't been listening like Luke had.

"The princess! This droid belongs to her. We've got to help her, get him back to her. And bust Holly out as well!"

Han dropped his mask of nonchalance and composure. His face shifted, eyes growing worried—though it was a slight difference, Luke noticed. "What?!" he exclaimed, jumping up from the chair upon which he had just been lounging without a care. "She—Holly was…."

Luke's face changed as well, yet his expression wasn't one of surprise and alarm. Rather, his eyes grew defiant and furious. "Yes! Of course! I told you she'd be captured! You wouldn't listen—you were just too prideful and—"

"Prideful? Me?" Han shot back. "You were so sure that—"

"Well, so were you!" he interrupted, not even listening to what Han was going to say. "Quite hypocritical of you, really—"

3PO turned to R2 beside him. If his metal face could shift, he would surely have worn an exasperated expression. "I'm only grateful that we don't argue like that, R2," he commented.

The R2 unit beeped.

"We do not!" Protested his companion. "Their exchange is ridiculous. They're both too prideful. My ability, on the other hand, is backed up with proof."

He beeped again.

"What do you mean, 'What proof'?!"

Chewie just sighed. Xenon wasn't there for him to argue with.

42.

There was a shifting in Holly's pocket. Specifically, the one into which she had slid Xenon. Oh, she hadn't forgotten about him, of course; Holly was merely giving him the silent treatment. This wasn't really the wisest nor most mature course of action, considering her impending extermination, but she couldn't help it. She was seventeen, after all.

Finally, she caved and removed him from his prison. She set him venomously upon the floor beside her, shooting him a glare that she hoped would penetrate his metal shell and burn right into his cybernetic soul. "What do you want, bug?" she deadpanned.

As one can probably tell, she wasn't too happy with him.

He took a moment to activate, but once he did, the spider droid took his time pacing. Circling the room, walking in lines, forming triangles, hexagons, squares, and dodecagons at random. Either that, or he was just wandering and Holly made shapes out of his path. Either way, it took her mind out of its grim mood.

If only he hadn't jumped off her shoulder. Why would he ever think that that was a good idea? Holly hadn't expected him to do something so obviously stupid. It wasn't something she would do….

No, scolded an elderly, Dumbledore-ish voice, but you would just as eagerly follow after someone so obviously stupid. So, really, what's more telling, that you wouldn't think to do something or just following in someone else's footsteps?

It sounded like Obi-Wan. Again. Oh, why had her conscious adopted his voice? It made her want to follow its advice more, she whined to herself, and although it was the right thing to do, it wasn't the easiest.

Holly was so lazy when she was sullen.

She found herself trying to make excuses. Well, she considered, she couldn't very well have let him roam free back there. He'd have gotten caught or something.

That train of thought brought her back to where she was now, and Holly knew that it was foolish to try to justify her actions, so she gave up the process. Still, if the stupid Lock Pick hadn't gone anywhere, she'd still be with the rest of them….

Wait a second.

Lock Pick.

"Your droid; they were called 'Lock Picks' soon after their creation, named after the ease with which they can crawl into locking systems."

Obi-Wan had said that to her on the first day that she met him, right before they left Tatooine. He had recognized her droid for what he was—and it really hadn't mattered either way to her. It hadn't mattered then, at least; now, however….

"Hey, Xenon, buddy," Holly said, turning her voice sweet and kind. He halted in his pacing and turned to her, little electronic head tilted to the side. "Well, I'm sorry for being mad at you," she began, though she really wasn't. "But is there something you could do for me?"

He looked at her expectantly.

"It'll help you too, of course," she said as means of persuasion. Holly didn't know if she'd really need to persuade him, but she wasn't sure if he was mad, as well. "I have to ask you to sneak into those wires," she pointed to the wiring next to the door. "And find a way to the control panel for the door. To unlock it."

Holly watched as he turned to the door, then back at her, then to the door again. The next thing she knew, he wasn't there—he had shot off, zooming across the smooth shining floor swifter than her eyes could follow him. He disappeared into the array of wires surrounding the door—he hadn't really needed any persuasion, it seemed. He wanted out as much as Holly did.

It was quite arrogant, Holly thought, of the Empire to assume that leaving any area of wires exposed would be safe for them. They must have only taken into account the instance in which their prisoner would take out their rage upon the wires, clawing and ripping them out like vines. In that case, the door would be jammed, and they wouldn't care. But to completely ignore the possibility that someone could bypass the security system by this obviously gaping hole….that was just plain presumptuous.

Really, was there no one who could say, 'Hey, you might want to cover that huge hole. You know, someone might just be able to infiltrate it'? Holly knew perfectly well, however, that most people, unfortunately, didn't pay enough attention to detail. They were probably too busy protecting the main reactor or something really important like that.

42.

"She's rich," urged Luke. "If we get both of them, you'd get your friend back and loads of money."

"Holly isn't my friend," Han denied feebly and unbelievably. "I'm just too chivalrous to leave her, that's all." At Luke's doubtful raised eyebrows, he gave up lying. "Oh, fine. I'll save a friend, but I won't waste time on some Princess from an arbitrary neutral planet." Then he paused. "But….how rich?"

Luke saw his opportunity and took it. "She's rich and powerful, being a princess and all. Listen, if you were to rescue her along with Holly, the reward would be…." He trailed off.

"The reward would be what?"

"Well…." Luke grasped for straws. "Well, more wealth than you could imagine!"

"I don't know; I can imagine quite a bit!"

"You'll get it!" promised Luke.

"I'd better."

"You will," he assured desperately.

"All right, kid," Han gave in. "You'd better be right about this. But I swear, if this Princess of yours stops us from finding Holly again, you'll both be sorry."

Luke allowed a small smirk to make its way onto his face. "Not friends indeed," he chuckled to himself. Then he wondered, were he and Holly friends? Technically, he had known her longer, if that mattered. But Han had spoken to her longer….he had actually known her. He wasn't even sure if that made Han and Holly friends, because it certainly seemed to him that they hated each other earlier.

But Luke and Holly hadn't argued like the two of them had. Did that mean they'd be better friends, or worse? He didn't dwell on that thought, however, once Han asked, "Well, what's your plan, kid?"

"Uh…." Luke glanced around. How would they all get safely from this point to the detention cells? Han and Luke would manage, having the gear and all….but he wasn't oblivious to the fact that Chewie wouldn't exactly fit in Stormtrooper armor, even if they had another set. "3PO, hand me those binders, will you?"

The 'binders' were cuffs not unlike those worn by Holly earlier; bronze, without a hinge or lock—and Luke crossed over to the Wookiee warily. "Okay," he said as he approached. "I'm going to put these on you—"

Luke halted abruptly when Chewbacca let out a long, murderous growl and backed away. "Okay, Han, y-you put these on," he stuttered slightly, shoving the binders at the smuggler, who seemed to appraise Luke with a gauging glance.

"Don't worry, Chewie," Han said, not entirely sure that the Wookie wouldn't rip his own arms out as he fastened the cuffs onto his wrists. "I think I know what he has in mind."

Luke nodded. "Er, yeah—well, 3PO, are you absolutely certain that nobody has entered in anything on Holly?" He turned to the aforementioned droid, who was still surveying the information. "Has anything been added or changed?"

After a moment of silence, the droid finally answered. "Well, sir, it does give a cell number now," he said. "But it does not specify what her fate is to be."

"That doesn't matter," Han stated, standing. "They're both in the detention cell, and we'll have to get to both of them before either is terminated."

"Han's right. We just need to get there—they'll stand no chance of death once we arrive." Han wasn't the only one who rolled his eyes at the boy's arrogance; Chewbacca sent him a sidelong glance and R2 silently chided him for his stupidity. Luke was impervious to this, however, being a teenager; that's what teenagers do. "What's her cell?"

"BC-38." C-3PO could only watch as the two men picked up the stolen guns and, followed by the Wookiee, made for the door. "Master Luke, sir! Pardon me for asking, but….ah….what shall R2 and I do if we're found?" he asked nervously.

"Lock the door," replied Luke airily, as if it didn't matter either way.

"And hope they don't have blasters." Han's comment did nothing to lessen his tension.

"That isn't very reassuring."

42.

Holly had been waiting for far too long. Every so often, she could hear the clicking or snapping of Xenon changing, moving around, or otherwise altering the configuration of the wires. She didn't even know if it actually did take that long; all she could do was sit there, however, and that drew it out infinitely.

However, after what could have been a minute, half an hour, half a day, or half a year, something finally clicked. Not in Holly's mind, as the phrase usually implies; rather, something literally clicked. It wasn't as close to the door as she would have thought, but rather, somewhere in the middle of the wall, which she wouldn't have ever guessed to be hollow.

She could hear the excited chirping that she had come to associate with Xenon, and followed the sound as he raced through the wall and to the door. She heard him pause there, and roughly, she smashed the two pieces of her glasses onto her face as she approached the wiring.

Xenon emerged, gloating. Holly wasn't sure how she could tell, but it was obvious that he was proud of the work he had done. Usually, Holly would have sent him a playfully chiding glare, but she was too eager now; staring at the door anxiously, she waited to see if he was successful.

She didn't have to wait long; the time for sitting idly was, after far too much time, over. Her face lit up in a grin when the mechanical door slid swiftly open.

Discarding one half of her glasses into her pocket, she swept Xenon off of the floor and held him lovingly in her palm. "Oh, Xenon," she whispered. "Thank you so much! I'm sorry I was mad at you; you're brilliant!" Her praise didn't belittle his ego, but for once, she didn't care.

Slowly and deliberately, she peeked out of the cell. Turning her head left and right carefully, so as not to attract the attention of any scanners, soldiers on patrol, or the like, Holly deemed the coast to be clear.

Holly took a deep breath and strode out of the cell.

42.

So,what'd you guys think? It's wonderful to hear from all of you! And to the reviewers of the last chapter:

Sardhrantor: Again, thanks for the food advice. I've taken your opinion on whether it should be separated into account; I'm still considering.

Himeno Kazehito: Thanks for your review! Yeah, that was one of the many factors I have to consider. And, don't worry; you'll find out why Xenon did that...maybe not now, but you will.

myharlequinromance321: Thank you! I'm not the most experienced with writing the climax of a story, since I usually write the beginning and give up, but I'm glad to see you like the rising action. And, yeah, it does seem easier, but I'm worried about it growing to be too large, with all the movies. Anyway, thanks!

EGGS: I appreciate the review, and telling me what you guys are wondering about, what you want to know. Thank you!

Missanonne: Glad you like it :) You guys all seem to be wondering the same thing, by the way, which is addressed below. No real spoilers, just a hint. Thank you for reviewing!

ATTENTION: Since most of you asked this question, I'm not going to answer it, but I'm going to tell you when you'll get the answer, so you won't be disappointed. You'll find out why Xenon ran off during the time between Episode IV and Episode V-I'm going to write some scenes during that three year duration, because a lot does happen, including solving this mystery. I just didn't want you guys to think that I've forgotten it when it's not solved by the Battle of Yavin or anything.

As for the question I asked last time, I've gotten one vote saying I should separate it from a reviewer, and two in favor of it being the same fic. I've been discussing the pros and cons with myself and others and, hopefully, I'll have an answer by next time.

Have a nice day; I hope you liked the chapter! Review, follow, favorite, if you so choose-and thanks to all of you who already have :)