Author's Note: Well, I don't think that was such a terribly bad wait! Not compared to the recent record, anyway…Anyway, here's a nice long action-packed chapter for you. Hope you all enjoy! Tell me what you think, I'm always a little iffy when it comes to action scenes…

…

Baranne had not considered the options for very long before settling on Corellia as the first place to look. Firstly, it was the most significant system on the Corellian Trade Route; nearly all traffic stopped here at some point or other. Secondly, it had been Corellia on which the debacle involving this boy first erupted. The laws of psychology firmly indicated that the boy called Luke Skywalker, if that was in fact his name, would feel compelled to return to Ground Zero. And so he docked his ship in the Strip of Coronet and immediately set up shop in the planetary base.

Now, scarcely an hour later, he was threading his way down an alley just off of Treasure Ship Row, aiming his steps towards a familiar cantina not much further away, and shaking his flabbergasted head at his own incredible good luck. He prided himself on his instincts when it came to tracking down suspects, but never before had his instincts hit the jackpot on the very first try. Once at the base, he'd drawn up the records from the Kenobi investigation and scanned the list of involved locations. The first name he'd picked had been the Lucky Saber cantina. A few minutes of security footage had done the rest.

Overhead, Baranne had doubled the Imperial patrol and placed it on red alert; there were also several troopers in plainclothes tailing him. According to plan, he'd be able to enter the cantina alone and scope the place out quietly. Going by the footage, Luke had left the cantina just fifteen minutes ago, and had made frequent visits over the last few days. Provided that Baranne caused no disturbances, he had every reason to expect that the boy would do so again. He would examine the layout of the building and casually talk to some of the patrons. Hopefully, there would still be several beings within who had seen the boy, possibly even spoken with him. He might be able to get some more specific leads on Luke's whereabouts, which would serve him well should Luke decide it was too risky to return once more to the cantina.

Accordingly, the agent had donned a nondescript jumpsuit and jacket, and was making his unobtrusive way down the alley to the cantina entrance. Just as he walked in the door, he was nearly bowled over by fearsome character decked out in mismatched bits of armor, some of them clearly parts of stormtrooper armor. But it was not the motley ensemble that caught his shrewd attention—it was the man's very familiar face.

Extremely familiar face. In fact, Baranne was sure that he had seen a couple million just like it all around the galaxy.

The man did not pay him any attention, but Baranne stepped back outside the door and watched him from behind as he plowed down the street. He had a keen eye for the unusual, and a clone soldier gone solo was most definitely unusual.

Making a mental note to follow up on it, the agent put the misplaced clone out of thought for the present and proceeded into the cantina. He quickly glanced towards the booth where Luke had been sitting, and felt a surge of triumph when he saw that the dark-skinned man who had kept Luke company in the security footage was still sitting there.

Lord Vader's Force was, clearly, very much with him today.

Baranne immediately crossed the crowded, dark room and sat himself down in the booth opposite him. "I understand you're an information broker," he said cheerfully. That much had been very obvious from the security footage; and besides that, there was something about the man's demeanor.

The dark-skinned man stared at him, his expression a cross between surprise and dismay and relief and fading fear and renewing fear and guilt and self-defense and…well, just about any distressed emotion Baranne could think of.

He wondered vaguely if it had anything at all to do with Luke…well, he'd soon find out.

"Yeah," the man said, swallowing a drink of water from his depleted bottle. "Yes, I am." He dredged up an effort at a charming smile, but it didn't overcome his general state of dismay, which remained painfully obvious.

"Excellent," Baranne said, waving the bar droid over. "As it happens, I'm looking for someone, whom I think you've seen recently."

The dark-skinned man stared at him for exactly one second longer, and then bolted up out of the booth—only to be intercepted by one of Baranne's backup men. The undercover trooper neatly set the information broker back down in the booth with a patronizing pat on the shoulder and meandered over to the bar. Baranne kept smiling pleasantly at him. The broker returned a bleak stare.

"A young man, thirteen years old, blond, blue eyes," Baranne continued. "Answers to Luke?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the broker said dully.

His hunch had been correct; that distressed response of just a few seconds ago certainly had something to do with Luke Skywalker.

"Oh, I think you do," Baranne objected. "As a matter of fact I just saw you talking to him a few minutes ago on the security cameras." He pulled out his pocket projector and played a clip of relevant footage.

The broker's face fell promptly. "Why do you want to know?" he muttered.

"I'm with Corellian Family Services," Baranne lied smoothly. He produced the badge he'd fabricated for just such a purpose on his last investigation into Luke's whereabouts. "Luke ran away from one of our facilities several months ago and we've been trying to recover him ever since. City Surveillance just sent my office a sighting alert. It's vitally important to society to get these children off the street and into a stable, safe environment. Surely you can understand that, Mr…?"

"Calrissian," said he, looking no less dubious than before.

"Calrissian," Baranne repeated. "Well, Mr. Calrissian, I certainly wouldn't want to be the one responsible for withholding information on the whereabouts of a state ward. The Imperial legal system doesn't look kindly on the obstruction of orphans' rights."

Unfortunately, Calrissian seemed to have worked up a bit of nerve. "I got news for you, pal," he snorted. "This is Corellia. Street rats' rights are pretty low on the list of Imperial priorities."

Baranne paused a second, and then leaned over the table and spoke in a low voice. "Then let me put this another way, Mr. Calrissian. The Empire also doesn't look kindly on fraternization with enemies of the regime. As it currently stands, Mr. Calrissian, you're guilty of protecting a Jedi. Now unless you want to tell me what you know about Luke, I'm going to have you reported, arrested, and executed for high tr—"

"Hangar 1138," Calrissian blurted out angrily. "He's looking for a friend of his, who got kidnapped, and supposedly the ship his friend is on is in Hangar 1138 on the Strip. I swear, that's all I know!"

Baranne searched his eyes evenly for a second, and nodded. The man wasn't lying—he was too much of a self-preservationist for that. "Thank you, Mr. Calrissian," he said cheerfully. "We at Corellian Family Services appreciate your cooperation."

…

Luke was a bit surprised to discover that he did, in fact, remember Hangar 1138. It was the same hangar that he and Obi-Wan had landed in when they first arrived on Corellia, almost three years ago. Where he'd first met Han.

Was this one of those Force-coincidence-except-not-things that Obi-Wan had always talked about?

Maybe he'd ask his father about it later.

Assuming his father didn't throw him a maximum security cell for the rest of his life once he caught up with Luke. After what he'd been up to as of recent—blowing up castle equipment, sending out warning transmissions illegally, wrecking the dueling salle, hacking through walls, shooting down TIE pilots, and running halfway across the galaxy without permission—lessons on metaphysics probably weren't going to be at the top of his father's lecture list.

"Why are we stopping?" Leia hissed in his ear.

Luke shook his head. "Just, um, thinking."

"About the plan for getting Han and your sisters?"

"More about how my father's probably gonna kill me."

Leia scowled at him; he could just barely see it through the shadows they were hunkered in. "Can we not think about that, please?"

"I didn't mean it literally," he hissed back.

"You hope," she retorted, hefting her blaster. Luke winced.

"You can shoot that thing, right?"

Now she was giving him that really-annoyed look again. He bet if he could see under his father's mask, that was the sort of expression he'd see whenever Han was mouthing off. "I had weapons instruction from a martial arts master back home," she told him for about the umpteenth time. "Of course I can shoot a blaster. Just so long as you know what you're doing."

Luke glared back at her. "Trust me, it's not like security's really tight around this dive." He gestured at the dilapidated hangar across the street. Leia raised her eyebrows. "We'll sneak in through the back, scope it out from the bunkroom, and make a run for the ship. We stun anybody who shows up, find Han and my sisters, and run for it. No problem." It was the same plan that they'd come up with when they left the cantina and stopped by their freighter to find some extra blasters—just in case.

"What if that green troll shows up?"

"I've got myself shielded. He can't sense me."

"What?"

"In the Force! He can't find me in the Force!"

"He can do that?"

Luke nodded in exasperation. "For crying out loud, I can do it."

"What if he finds me?"

"I'm shielding you too."

Leia relaxed a little. "Oh. You sure?"

"Yes," he snapped. "How come you never trust me?"

"If I never trusted you, I wouldn't be here," she pointed out. Luke had to agree with that point. Cautiously, he scanned the area between them and the hangar one more time. But he didn't see anything suspicious; just typical passersby, most of them your average local scum. As long as neither of them bothered anybody, there was nothing to worry about.

"I think it's clear. Let's go."

The two of them slipped out from under their awning and wove their way across the street, around the side of the hangar towards the crumbling wall in the back.

…

"No place for a child, this is," Yoda commented disapprovingly under his breath. Shrouded in his Jedi cloak, hood flung completely over his head and triangular ears, Obi-Wan rather thought the diminutive master looked far less like a Jedi than he did a Jawa. Which was as well—if Jawas were not exactly common in Coronet, they nonetheless attracted much less undesirable attention than a Jedi Master would.

"Luke knows his way around the Strip," he responded absently. "We were certainly here often enough."

"In the company of adults, he was then," Yoda retorted, as fiercely as he could while still whispering. "Wise, you think it is, for two younglings to wander here?"

"I didn't say it was wise," Obi-Wan defended. A fearsomely tattooed Zabrak stalked past them, wielding a vibroshiv conspicuously; he reminded Obi-Wan more than a little of that Sith he had battled on Naboo, all those years ago. No, indeed—the sooner they got Luke and Leia safely away from this shifting, dangerous place the better. "Of course," he continued, "they would not be here alone if you would simply reveal yourself to them."

"Uncertain of the boy's reaction, I am. Wait for the correct time, we must. Patience, young Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan, had he been in his corporeal ghostly form at that moment, would have bristled in a very Han Solo-ish fashion at such condescension. Unable to respond with anything like a proper tone of respect, he simply nodded his head. He would be cursed if he would go about making sarcastic responses to Jedi Masters like the second incarnation of Anakin Skywalker. "Are you sure you know what direction he's heading?" he said instead. "He's shielding his presence very well."

"Yes, yes," Yoda agreed, swerving around a staggering, obviously drunk Rodian, "impressive, his abilities are. Shielding two, he is. Very advanced, very advanced. Taught him this well, you did."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan returned, pleasantly surprised by the sudden compliment.

"But strong enough to hide from me, he is not," the Jedi Master continued. "More experienced, I am. Find him I can, yes."

Obi-Wan shook his head in bewilderment. He himself could not discern Luke's whereabouts, not even the faintest glimmer of his bright Force aura; he very much doubted either of the Sith could do better. Yoda was indeed unrivaled in his mastery of the ways of the Force.

"Further down the Strip, he is," Yoda informed him in a low voice. "Near—"

He stopped mid-sentence, mid-stride, his ears perking up alertly beneath his hood—and then he sped forward much more quickly than before. "In danger, the twins are," the Jedi Master announced tersely. "Quick we must be."

…

"Engage Operation Rat Trap, Plan A-sub-a," Baranne ordered into his comlink in a low voice. He had just had enough time to scope out the vicinity of Hangar 1138, and had stationed his men secretly around the area, most of them undercover in plainclothes, weapons concealed. The patrol fighters overhead had sent him scans of the interior of the hangar, and the commander of the stormtrooper squad had quickly formulated several variations on the newly-conceived Operation Rat Trap. Just recently, in quick succession, all of his lookouts had reported sighting a blond boy, accompanied by a dark-haired girl; Baranne had just confirmed the boy's identity with his own eyes, from where he was haggling with a street vendor over juba fruit prices. The two of them had slipped surreptitiously down the alley, towards the back of the building, no doubt planning to sneak in through the breaks in the wall.

Exactly as he had anticipated.

He broke off his bogus negotiations with the fruit vendor and meandered innocently after the two down the alley. By the time the fugitive children reached the back of the hangar, they would be surrounded by his men.

He had Luke Skywalker in his net as surely as the galaxy spun.

…

Luke and Leia rushed down the alley, sticking to the shadows on the sides, until they turned the corner around the back of the hangar. The street was a bit wider than an alleyway here, more room for movement and breathing; Luke was relieved to note that the hangars on the other side were staggered, so that there was another alley coming to a T-intersection at the middle of the back wall of Hangar 1138. Should someone start firing at them, they would have someplace to run instead of just straight ahead.

"Where are we going?" Leia asked tensely.

Luke pointed ahead. "There's a break in the wall, right up there. We can slip in through there, and I think the bunkroom will be not too far to the left of that."

"You're sure nobody saw us?"

"Nobody who cares," Luke assured her. "Come on, we don't want to waste time."

Please, Han, please still be there!

…

He'd come straight back to the hangar after getting the broker to arrange the immediate delivery of the portable cryo unit. Checked all the security recordings. No sign of the blonde kid. Luke, that was the name. Good. Time to set up some contingency plans. Probably it would be a good idea to catch him alive, stash him with the other bonuses. There was always a chance his employer would be interested. And if not—well, nothing lost. In any case, he couldn't let this Luke character go running around free, not when the kid seemed to know something about his activities. Special case; his employer wanted this to be completely under the radar. No trail.

The broker was fast, lucky for him. The cryo unit was only fifteen minutes behind him. Almost impressive. He paid the deliverer and had the med droid transfer the merchandise into the new unit, once he was satisfied it was completely functional. The hired speeder van was already waiting; he didn't waste any time loading the cryo unit into it and securing it in a carefully padded cargo cubicle. Once the merchandise was secured, he headed back to the shuttle for the bonuses.

Which was when the sensor alarm received strapped to his wrist went off.

…

Blast! That boy was good.

Somehow, Baranne's men hadn't been quite fast enough to stop Luke Skywalker before he wormed his way into the hangar, his brunette girlfriend in tow. No doubt about it, that boy could vanish into the woodwork quite spectacularly. Well—it was not as though the plan was no longer salvageable. With a few hastily barked orders into the com, he redistributed his men so as to cover all possible exits from the hangar, and put a call in to the planetary base calling for immediate reinforcement. According to the scans from the TIEs, there weren't any subterranean exits; Luke would have to come out sooner or later.

Even if he flew out, there were fighter patrols standing by; more than a match for a lambda shuttle, even if a Jedi was at the helm.

They'd catch the boy on his way out, even if they were spread a little more thinly.

…

Leia's breath came in exhilarated gasps. They'd actually done it! They had snuck into the hangar and were now aboard the mysterious shuttle she had last seen on Vjun, all without being seen by anyone. There were plenty of crevices and shadowy nooks to hide in aboard the dimly lit ship. Now all they had to do was find Han and Luke's sisters.

How hard could that be? It wasn't a big ship.

They had split up to cover both halves of the main deck. Leia had been past a few cabins now without seeing anything, but as she stretched upward to peer through the third, she caught her breath in excitement.

There, slumped on a bunk inside the cabin and gazing dolefully at the med droid standing guard, were two very adorable little girls. Leia quickly scrambled to find Luke, keeping a sharp eye for whoever the enemy was.

"I found them!"

They dashed silently back to the crew cabin, and Luke switched on his hissing blue lightsaber, slicing through the lock on the door.

The med droid spun, and made a screech of protest, but Luke cut it down instantly. As it collapsed, the two little girls on the bunk catapulted out of the shadows onto their brother, fright warring delight in their eyes.

"Das Luke, das Luke, it's Luke!"

"Dadda here?"

"Where's Dadda?"

"Where's Miyr?"

"Where's Han?"

"Who's dat?"

"Who's dat, Luke, who's her?"

"Shhh!" Luke hissed quickly. "The bad guys are still out there somewhere, we gotta be quiet, okay?" They immediately quieted down.

"But who's her?" one of the very cute little girls whispered to him.

"This is my friend, Leia. She's gonna help us get away, okay?"

They stared dubiously at Leia for a few seconds before nodded reluctantly. "A'kay."

"Sandra, Leia's gonna carry you," Luke said, pushing one of the identical twins towards her. Leia picked up Sandra, trying not to stare. How on earth could such cute little baby girls be related to Darth Vader?

Her Aunt Celly would coo and fuss over these two for hours if they ever visited Alderaan. She shifted Sandra on her hip and gripped her blaster a little more tightly, determined not to let anything hurt her new acquaintance. Maybe she was Darth Vader's daughter, but she was still just an innocent little girl who'd been kidnapped. And that was wrong, and Leia was going to do something about it.

She almost hoped she would get a shot at whoever had scared them.

Luke reached down and picked up the other twin. "C'mon, Sara," he said. "Keep quiet, okay? We're gonna try to find Han."

Sara snuggled up against Luke, still looking frightened. "'Kay," she whispered.

Leia felt Sandra's tiny arms tighten around her neck, and she glanced down into the toddler's wide blue eyes. "C'mon, Sandra," she said, and went ahead of Luke out the door—

She screamed. The man from the cantina stood right in front of her, the one with all the scars and the mismatched, carbon-scored armor. And he was pointing his huge ugly blaster right at her.

She had no idea how she managed to shoot him first.

The blaster wasn't set to stun. Her shot ripped right into his side, between the chinks in his armor, and threw him backwards—he grunted—Leia ran. Behind her she heard shots singing, footsteps pounding, Luke's lightsaber squealing—then suddenly she was racing down the ramp, and Luke was running right behind her, and they were streaking across the hangar towards the chink in the wall.

She didn't pause as she squeezed herself and Sandra through the narrow fracture. That man couldn't follow them through here, so she took a moment to stop and gasp for air. Sandra was shaking, but she was still very quiet. "Shh," Leia said anyway.

Luke soon pressed into her side. "Come on!" he hissed. "We can't stop, keep going!"

Leia took a last gulp of air and they both wriggled their way through the last stretch of the crack, bursting out into the light—

Where she found a dozen blaster muzzles suddenly looking them square in the eye.