-Han Solo-

As a general rule, I don't believe in Destiny. I've been around the galaxy too many times to believe in miracles, and my faith in any higher power or Force is close to nil. However, exceptions could be made in the case of Luck. You don't get far as a Smuggler without a healthy dose of it.

Doesn't mean I wasn't surprised when our ventral turret started spewing fire on its own.

I could hear Chewie's start over the com, and raised an eyebrow.

"Did our turret slaving system just start working after five years Chewie?" He chuffed a negative sound.

/I doubt they would be, seeing as I removed the servos to fix the ventilation generator three months ago. /

I watched in a sort of fascination as a third skiff exploded into a raining fireball. I shifted us to the right to avoid the debris and dove the Falcon into a maintenance ship tunnel.

Chewie turned his turret around to cover our rear, shadowed by its twin, whose movements and impeccable aim was far too accurate for any basic system.

Of course. Lukka. How did I forget him?

I smirk and swing us into a roll out of the tunnel.

"Chewie….bet you 10 credits the kid isn't in the galley."

Chewie's surprised chuff makes me laugh as I swing around to face our attackers, who are retreating back under the force of two primary and four secondary plasma turrets.

/By the moons, Han. Your charity case has saved our hides. Coincidence, huh? /

"Yeah. Smugglers Luck…." I laugh, as I scuttle the Falcon down into even seedier territory. We would have to wait down here until dark, and then make a run for it.

We made it. My luck held out for one more fight.

But even as I relax into my seat and switch on the auto-pilot, a glimmer of disquiet slipped into my thoughts as quietly as the Falcon merged into the north-bound traffic flight path. My danger sense was still tingling…and I knew why.

I believe in Luck. But I most certainly don't believe in miracles…or Coincidences.

-Luke Skywalker-

The seedy hole in the wall cantina we slunk into was in old Justicar territory, and could barely be seen 10 meters away, it's flashing neon signs blending into the jumble of giant holo-ads and shops.

The inside was just as garish, as if to cover up the crumbling walls and stained-by-who-knows-what floor.

The alcohol was decent though.

Han scrubbed his brow wearily and sat his glass down across the table.

"Well kiddo. It's certainly been a day. …..Sorry you got caught in our mess."

I take a sip of my drink and eye its glowing contents, then turn a wry smile toward him.

"I've had worse. Don't beat yourself up."

Han snorted and turned a sharp eye to me.

"I'd say. You certainly shoot like it…..that was some skill kid, and not average skill. But that's your business. You probably saved our hides, so for what it's worth…Thanks."

I waved a hand dismissively, and signal the Twi'lek tending the bar for another drink.

"I was on that ship too. Not a huge fan of death by giant explosions."

Han smiled wryly and checked his comm, probably checking to see if Chewbacca had finished the repairs to the wiring that was fried by a lucky shot earlier. He had shooed us away about an hour ago, claiming that we were in the way, so I followed Han out to a nearby dive to wait.

The Force was a great swell around me now, pushing me forward like a wind gust on Hoth. Its message was clear…My destiny and Solo's were intertwined. How, yet, I did not know. But it was important…so I knew I must find a way to stay.

-Anakin Skywalker-

The bright glow of my light saber pushed aside the oppressive gloom surrounding me as I strode through the dry, close walls of the corridor with purpose. Rats skittered away from me…as they should. They had lived in this place long enough to know what was dangerous.

I knew this place.

Korriban.

Why was I here? I had come here once with my…Sidious.

The Sith Lord within me is curious…we never saw much of this place, as Sidious only brought us here when we were initiated.

We? …. Maybe I do need a psychiatrist.

A shadow whisks across the floor ahead, and I swing toward it, sinking into a defensive crouch.

Nothing attacks, so I slink after it, rounding the corner…..and catch my breath in a sort of awe.

I had found a Sith tomb, a cavernous atrium, lined with statues of Sith Lords and Warriors gone by.

The catacomb is ominous, as any tomb of a self-respecting Sith Lord should be, lit by thousands of guttering torches whose light only seemed to emphasize the dark shadows pressing in.

The statues stand strong and proud, kingly, almost….testifying their status in life. There is an element of pride in their stance, achievement of the most chilling sort…of mighty empires, and unlimited power, blood and hatred.

Vader is reverent, and I find that surprisingly, to a degree, so am I.

After all, the Sith have done Great Things. Terrible things, yes...but Great.